When in the Springtime of the year

When the trees are crowned with leaves

When the ash and oak, and the birch and yew

Are dressed in ribbons fair

When owls call the breathless moon

In the blue veil of the night

The shadows of the trees appear

Amidst the lantern light

Who will go down to those shady groves

And summon the shadows there

And tie a ribbon on those sheltering arms

In the Springtime of the year?

The songs of birds seem to fill the wood

That when the fiddler plays

All their voices can be heard

Long past their woodland days

And so they linked their hands and danced

Round in circles and in rows

And so the journey of the night descends

When all the shades are gone

A garland gay we bring you here

And at your door we stand

It is a sprout well budded out

The work of our Lord's hand