[How hot the sun rushes]
1
How hot the sun rushes
Like fire in the bushes
The wild flowers look sick at the foot of the tree
Birds nests are left lonely
The pewit sings only
And all seems disheartened, and lonely like me
2
Baked earth and burnt furrows
Where the rabbit he burrows
And yet it looks pleasant beneath the green tree
The crows nest look darkly
O'er fallows dried starkly
And the sheep all look restless as nature and me
3
Yet I love a meadow dwelling
Where nature is telling
A tale to the clear stream—its dearest to me
To sit in green shadows
While the herd turns to gadders
And runs from the hums of the fly and the bee
4
This spot is the fairest
The sweetest and rarest
This sweet sombre shade of the bright green tree
Where the morehens flag-nest
On the waters calm breast
Lies near to this sweet spot thats been mother to me
