In the bloom of summer,
in the warmth of sun;
Amongst birds that hummer,
and the songs they sung.

Runs a river entwine,
no more a brook;
Reflecting a mature shine,
with each nook and crook

Summer with his golden ray,
Asks the river clear;
Are you happy? please say
waits as she steers.

I have joy, a lot of it,
and a lot I forsee;
but a joyous tear I hold inside,
till I meet the sea.