The Little darling Spring, 

          Has run away; 

 The sunshine grew too hot for her to stay. 

   She kissed her sister, Summer, 

          And she said: 

"When  I am gone, you must be queen instead." 

    Now reigns the Lady Summer, 

         Round whose feet 

A thousand fairies flock with blossoms sweet. 

  'Tis I whom children love the best;

       My wealth is all for them;

   For them is set each glossy cup

        Upon each sturdy stem.

   O little playmates whom I love!

       The sky is summer~blue,

   And meadows full of buttercups

    Are spread abroad for you.

   So small, so blue, in grassy places

            My flowers raise

            Their tiny faces.

    By streams my bigger sisters grow,

          And smile in gardens,

                In a row.

      I've never seen a garden plot;

           But though I'm small,

             Forget me not!

     Little Herb Robert,

      Bright and small,

     Peeps from the bank

    Or the old stone wall.

     Little Herb Robert,

     His leaf turns red;

     He's wild geranium,

       So it is said.

  The green wheat's a~growing,

    The lark sings on high;

   In scarlet silk a~glowing,

         Here stand I.

  The wheat's turning yellow,

     Ripening for sheaves;

   I hear the little fellow

  Who scares the bird~thieves.

   Now the harvest's ended,

   The wheat~field is bare;

  But still, red and splendid,

          I am there. 

    "Foxglove, Foxglove,

      What do you see?"

   The cool green woodland,

     The fat velvet bee;

       Hey, Mr Bumble,

  I've honey here for thee!

     "Foxglove, Foxglove,

       What see you now?"

  The soft summer moonlight

 On bracken, grass, and bough;

  And all the fairies dancing

    As only they know how.