Along the sunny lane,
Wet with a fleeting rain,
And white with daisies in the tall green grass, 
How sweet it is to stray 
Throughout a Summer day,
Forgetting that a Summer day must pass.

White clover for the bee,
And just for you and me 
A happy lark is singing in the bush
Of Love and Stars and Spring,
And so we hear him sing,
Forgetting that the sweetest song must hush.

We have no thought or care,
Like all the flowers fair,
For any Morrow or for Yesterday;
And for a little while 
How sweet it is to smile,
Forgetting that such smiles must pass away.