When in the springtime of the year  When the trees are crowned with leaves  When the ash and oak, and the birch and yew  Are dressed in ribbons fair    When owls call the breathless moon  In the blue veil of the night  The shadows of the trees appear  Amidst the lantern light    We've been rambling all the night  And some time of this day  Now returning back again  We bring a garland gay    Who will go down to those shady groves  And summon the shadows there  And tie a ribbon on those sheltering arms  In the springtime of the year    The songs of birds seem to fill the wood  That when the fiddler plays  All their voices can be heard  Long past their woodland days    And so they linked their hands and danced  Round in circles and in rows  And so the journey of the night descends  When all the shades are gone    "A garland gay we bring you here  And at your door we stand  It is a sprout well budded out  The work of Our Lord's hand"