In the bright summer weather
We twain will go together,
By the river's silver swathes,
Where the melilotus bathes
Its blooms gold--bright;
And along the distant stream
Broods the white silent steam,
Thickening onward like a dream
In the first sleep of night.

In the warm summer weather
We twain will go together,
On the west side of the hill,
While the leaves are keeping still,
As the sun goes down;
And the long straight streams
Of the mellow setting beams
Light up with rosy gleams
Mountain, moor, and town.

In the calm summer weather
We twain will go together,
When the western planet's light
Is full, and warm, and bright,
Above the western flood;
Only the impatient rill
To itself is talking still,
By the hedge--row down the hill,
On the border of the wood.