The May Morning Dew

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W:How pleasant in winter to sit by the hob
W:listening to the barks and the howls of a dog
W:Or in summer to wander the wide valleys through
W:And to pluck the wild flowers in the May morning dew.
W:
W:Oh, Summer is coming, Oh, Summer is here
W:With the leaves on the trees and the skies blue and clear
W:And the small birds are singing their fond notes so true
W:And the flowers they are springing in the May morning dew.
W:
W:The house I was reared in is but a stone on a stone
W:And all round the garden wild thistles have grown
W:And all the fine neighbours that ever I knew
W:Like the red rose they withered in the May morning dew.
W:
W:God be with the old folks, who are all dead and gone
W:And likewise my two brothers, young Denis and John
W:As we ran through the heather, the wild hare to pursue
W:As their joys they were mingled in the May morning dew