The day is all round me the woods & the fields
& sweet is the singing their birds music yields
The waterfall music theres none such at home
It spreads like a sheet & then falls into foam
The meadows are mown what a beautiful hue
There is in green closes as I wander through
A green of all colours yellow brown & dark grey
While the footpaths all darkly goes winding away
Creeping onto a foot-brig that crosses a brook
Or a gate or a stile & how rustic they look
Some leaning so much that the maidens will go
Lower down with their buckets & try to creep through
There is nothing more sweet in the fields & the sun
Than those dear little footpaths that oer the fields run
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