The summer wind

The bugling of the summer wind

Is sweet upon the hill:

I love to hear its eddies

The heather-crannies fill.

It plays upon the bracken

A blithe fanfarronade:

And thro' the moss-cups whistleth

"The Fairy Raid."

It leaps from birch to rowan,

And laugheth long and loud,

Then with a spring is vanished,

And rideth on a cloud!