A clear, glad day in early June.
The grass with dandelions strewn
The cows from Winter stalls set free -
Stand listening rich tune
Stand listening to the leave's rich tune
Brooks to their pebbles softly croon[?],
As if all things were glad to be.

While       by every joyous[?] thing
A happiness no friend could bring
A holy fog just tinged with sorrow.
I hear my birds e[c]static sing
A human voice doth harshly ring
There will be rain to-morrow.

There is no perfect day.
   All fair? free[?] from every pain
For with its glory runs the song
   there To-morrow it will rain
there'll be rain.

[author unknown]