Fair Venevil hastened with tripping feet
 Her lover to meet.
He sang, so it rang o'er the church far away:
 "Good-day! Good-day!"

And all the little birds sang right merrily their lay:
 "Midsummer Day
 Brings us laughter and play;
But later know I little, if she twines her wreath so gay!"

She twined him a wreath of the flowers blue:
 "My eyes for you!"
He tossed it and caught it and to her did bend:
 "Good-by, my friend!"
And loudly he exulted at the field's far distant end:
 "Midsummer Day
 Brings us laughter and play;
But later know I little, if she twines her wreath so gay!"

She twined him a wreath: "Do at all you care
 For my golden hair?"
She twined one, and gave in life's hour so rare
 Her red lips' pair;
He took them and he pressed them, and he blushed as she did there.

She twined one all white as a lily-band:
 "'T is my right hand."
She twined one blood-red, with her love in each strand:
 "'T is my left hand."
He took them both and kept them both, but would not understand.

She twined of the flowers that bloomed around
 "Every one I found!"
She gathered and twined, while tears would her eyes fill:
 "Take them you will!"
In silence then he took them, but to flight he turned him still.

She twined one so large, of discordant hue:
 "My bride's-wreath true!"
She twined it and twined, till her fingers were sore:
 "Crown me, I implore!"
But when she turned, he was not there, she never saw him more.

She twined yet undaunted without a stay
 At her bride's-array.
But now it was long past the Midsummer Day,
 All the flowers away:
She twined it of the flowers, though they all were now away!
 "Midsummer Day
 Brings us laughter and play;
But later know I little, if she twines her wreath so gay!"