The sky is clear, The sun is bright; The cows are red, The sheep are white; Trees in the meadows Make happy shadows. Birds in the hedge Are perched and sing; Swallows and larks Are on the wing: Two merry cuckoos Are making echoes. Bird and the beast Have the dew yet; My road shines dry, Theirs bright and wet: Death gives no warning, On this May morning. I see no Christ Nailed on a tree, Dying for sin; No sin I see: All thoughts for gladness.
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