1The sun does arise,
2And make happy the skies.
3The merry bells ring
4To welcome the Spring.
5The sky-lark and thrush,
6The birds of the bush,
7Sing louder around,
8To the bells’ cheerful sound.
9While our sports shall be seen
10On the Ecchoing Green.
11Old John, with white hair
12Does laugh away care,
13Sitting under the oak,
14Among the old folk,
15They laugh at our play,
16And soon they all say.
17‘Such, such were the joys.
18When we all girls & boys,
19In our youth-time were seen,
20On the Ecchoing Green.’
21Till the little ones weary
22No more can be merry
23The sun does descend,
24And our sports have an end:
25Round the laps of their mothers,
26Many sisters and brothers,
27Like birds in their nest,
28Are ready for rest;
29And sport no more seen,
30On the darkening Green.
1The sun does arise,
2And make happy the skies.
3The merry bells ring
4To welcome the Spring.
5The sky-lark and thrush,
6The birds of the bush,
7Sing louder around,
8To the bells’ cheerful sound.
9While our sports shall be seen
10On the Ecchoing Green.
11Old John, with white hair
12Does laugh away care,
13Sitting under the oak,
14Among the old folk,
15They laugh at our play,
16And soon they all say.
17‘Such, such were the joys.
18When we all girls & boys,
19In our youth-time were seen,
20On the Ecchoing Green.’
21Till the little ones weary
22No more can be merry
23The sun does descend,
24And our sports have an end:
25Round the laps of their mothers,
26Many sisters and brothers,
27Like birds in their nest,
28Are ready for rest;
29And sport no more seen,
30On the darkening Green.
The sun does arise,
And make happy the skies.
The merry bells ring
To welcome the Spring.
The sky-lark and thrush,
The birds of the bush,
Sing louder around,
To the bells’ cheerful sound.
While our sports shall be seen
On the Ecchoing Green.
Old John, with white hair
Does laugh away care,
Sitting under the oak,
Among the old folk,
They laugh at our play,
And soon they all say.
‘Such, such were the joys.
When we all girls & boys,
In our youth-time were seen,
On the Ecchoing Green.’
Till the little ones weary
No more can be merry
The sun does descend,
And our sports have an end:
Round the laps of their mothers,
Many sisters and brothers,
Like birds in their nest,
Are ready for rest;
And sport no more seen,
On the darkening Green.
Select any word below to get its definition in the context of the poem. The words are listed in the order in which they appear in the poem.
Blake's Illuminations — Visit the Blake Archive to see beautiful images of the poem as Blake originally designed and illustrated it.
More About Blake — Learn more about Blake's life and work at the British Library's website.
Blake's Music — Read a short article about the music of Blake's poetry.
The Poem as a Song — Listen to the poem set to music and performed by another important poet, Allen Ginsberg.
Blake's Influence — Read an interview with the writer Philip Pullman in which Pullman discusses Blake's deep influence on his work.