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The best time is the summer time

When cow parsley is high,

And daylight hours of field flowers

Are spread beneath a sky

That drops upon them so much light

And unseals blooms that closed with night.

The best time is the summer time

Till cow parsley is dry.

And there is clover now

And bees to take the yield.

And it is over now

And there are changes in the field.

The best games are the summer games,

The bowler rushing in.

Though voices call and wickets fall

To seamers or the spin,

Men caught in the pavilion’s shade

Can play the strokes they never played.

The best games are the summer games

We still have time to win.

And so we find we’re staying

After afternoon.

And so we find they’re playing

Changes to a tune.

The best songs are the summer songs

With friends and a guitar,

When choruses are all that is,

And we have travelled far,

It seems we’ve passed all wish to roam

So let the fields become our home.

The best songs are the summer songs

Beneath the evening star.