II
Gild, sun, the pendent leavesSilverly dripping,Call the swifts from the eavesScreaming and dipping,Raise the green docks that beTo the ground beaten,All the washed earth we seeComfort and sweeten;Till at soft intervalOn the small flowers,Drops from the thatch-ends fall—Spent are the showers.Haste away,Waters grey,Spare of your shedding,Till we bestow our haySafe in the steading.
Gild, sun, the pendent leavesSilverly dripping,Call the swifts from the eavesScreaming and dipping,Raise the green docks that beTo the ground beaten,All the washed earth we seeComfort and sweeten;Till at soft intervalOn the small flowers,Drops from the thatch-ends fall—Spent are the showers.Haste away,Waters grey,Spare of your shedding,Till we bestow our haySafe in the steading.
Gild, sun, the pendent leavesSilverly dripping,Call the swifts from the eavesScreaming and dipping,Raise the green docks that beTo the ground beaten,All the washed earth we seeComfort and sweeten;Till at soft intervalOn the small flowers,Drops from the thatch-ends fall—Spent are the showers.Haste away,Waters grey,Spare of your shedding,Till we bestow our haySafe in the steading.