Blackberries, whortleberries blue,
Red strawberries to my taste and wish;

Sweet apples, honey of wild bees
And after them of eggs a clutch,
Haws, berries of the juniper;
Who, King, could cast a slur on such?

A cup with mead of hazelnut
Outside my hut in summer shine,
Or ale with herbs from wood and spring
Are worth, O King, thy costliest wine.

Bright bluebells o'er my board I throw--
A lovely show my feast to spangle--
The rushes' radiance, oaklets grey,
Brier-tresses gay, sweet, goodly tangle.

When brilliant summer casts once more
Her cloak of colour o'er the fields,
Sweet-tasting marjoram, pignut, leek,
To all who seek, her verdure yields.

Her bright red-breasted little men
Their lovely music then outpour,
The thrush exults, the cuckoos all
Around her call and call once more.

The bees, earth's small musicians, hum,
No longer dumb, in gentle chorus.