When in the spring
time of the year
When the trees are crowned with leaves
When the ash and oak
and 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
We've been rambling all the night
And some time of this day
Now returning back again
We bring a garland gay
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
