Bandstands every tuesday evening
Bring us to the drawling square:
Braid, glad horn, blunt drum, commend us
Each another, shed of care.

Locusts with enthusiasm
Celebrate the spended day:
In the dappling shadowed porchswing
Love finds out the usual way.

Children are composed this season.
There is hope among us yet.
Hope can cut the roots of reason:
And the sorrowful man forget.