From the recording The Ecchoing Green


The Ecchoing GreenThe Sun does arise,And make happy the skies.The merry bells ringTo welcome the Spring.The sky-lark and thrush,The birds of the bush,Sing louder around,To the bells cheerful sound.While our sports shall be seenOn the Ecchoing Green.Old John with white hairDoes laugh away care,Sitting under the oak,Among the old folk,They laugh at our play,And soon they all say.Such such were the joys.When we all girls & boys,In our youth-time were seen,On the Ecchoing Green.Till the little ones wearyNo more can be merryThe sun does descend,And our sports have an end:Round the laps of their mothers,Many sisters and brothers,Like birds in their nest,Are ready for rest;And sport no more seen,On the darkening Green.