Among the Boughs

For all the birds upon the wing between the sunny showers of spring

For all the lark a swinging high that sings below the cloudless sky

Sparrows clustering round the bough that chatter to the men at plough

The blackbird singing in among the boughs do sing the sweetest song

When nipping winds no more do blow from northern skies with sleet and snow

We do hear the blackbird sing his sweetest ditties in the spring

Blithe with newly opened eyes, see the morning's ruddy skies

Out a-hauling wood or lopse from a new-cut hedge or a new-felled copse

Rest among the primrose beds below the dappled oak trees' heads

But there's no time the whole day long like evening with the blackbird song