UP with the sun, the breeze arose,

Across the talking corn she goes,

And smooth she rustles¹ far and wide

Through all the voiceful countryside.

Through all the land her tale she tells;

She spins, she tosses, she compels

The kites, the clouds, the windmill sails

And all the trees in all the dales.

God calls us, and the day prepares

With nimble, gay and gracious airs:

And from Penzance to Maidenhead

The roads last night He watered.

God calls us from inglorious ease,

Forth² and to travel with the breeze

While, swift and singing, smooth and strong

She gallops³ by the fields along.

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