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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=529349" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Country Glee</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">HAYMAKERS, rakers, reapers, and mowers, <br>Wait on your Summer-queen; <br>Dress up with musk-rose her eglantine bowers, <br>Daffodils strew the green; <br>Sing, dance, and play, <br>'Tis holiday; <br>The sun does bravely shine <br>On our ears of corn. <br>Rich as a pearl <br>Comes every girl, <br>This is mine, this is mine, this is mine; <br>Let us die, ere away they be borne. <br> <br>Bow to the Sun, to our queen, and that fair one <br>Come to behold our sports: <br>Each bonny lass here is counted a rare one, <br>As those in a prince's courts. <br>These and we <br>With country glee, <br>Will teach the woods to resound, <br>And the hills with echoes hollow: <br>Skipping lambs <br>Their bleating dams, <br>'Mongst kids shall trip it round; <br>For joy thus our wenches we follow. <br> <br>Wind, jolly huntsmen, your neat bugles shrilly, <br>Hounds make a lusty cry; <br>Spring up, you falconers, the partridges freely, <br>Then let your brave hawks fly. <br>Horses amain, <br>Over ridge, over plain, <br>The dogs have the stag in chase: <br>'Tis a sport to content a king. <br>So ho ho! through the skies <br>How the proud bird flies, <br>And sousing kills with a grace! <br>Now the deer falls; hark, how they ring!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Thomas+Dekker">Thomas Dekker</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=529349" data-title="Country Glee de Thomas Dekker" data-description="HAYMAKERS, rakers, reapers, and mowers, 
Wait on your Summer-queen; 
Dress up with musk-rose her eglantine bowers, 
Daffodils strew the green; 
Sing, dance, and play, 
'Tis holiday; 
The sun does bravely shine 
On our ears of corn. 
Rich as a pear..."></div>
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