Haymakers, rakers, reapers, and mowers, br Wait upon your summer queen. br Dress up with musk-rose her eglantine bowers, br Daffodils strew the green. br Sing, dance, and play, br 'Tis holiday. br The sun does bravely shine br On our ears of corn. br Rich as a pearl, br Comes every girl, br This is mine, this is mine, this is mine; br Let us die, ere away they be borne. br br Bow to the sun, to our queen, and that fair one, br Come to behold our sports. br Each bonny lass here is counted a rare one, br As those in princes' courts. br These and we br With country glee, br Will teach the woods to resound br And the hills with echoes hollow; br Skipping lambs br Their bleating dams br 'Mongst kids shall trip it round; br For joy thus our wenches we follow. br br Wind, jolly huntsman, your neat bugles shrilly, br Hounds make a lusty cry; br Spring up, you falconers, the partridges freely, br Then let your brave hawks fly. br Horses amain br Over ridge, over plain, br The dogs have the stag in chase; br 'Tis a sport to content a king: br So ho! ho! through the skies br How the proud bird flies, br And sousing, kills with a grace. br Now the deer falls; hark! how they ring.