A Love Bright Garden

I know three comely misses
named April, May and June;
with tulips, they blow kisses;
with blackbirds, whistle tunes.

And over hills and vales, each wears
a long, green velvet gown;
their eyes, blue skies; their long blonde hair,
the sunshine streaming down.

They call to me, “Come wander.
Come dig, my love, and sow”
and so, I must go yonder
and, a love bright garden, grow.