In July By The Mountains From Here Far Away

In fancy it comes wafting to me in the breeze the sweet scent of hay In the fields by the mountains from here far away When the little brown lark is singing as he fly A musical speck in the gray of the sky The sun it is hidden behind clouds of gray Though the warmth of Summer it is in the day Good haymaking weather quite breezy and dry And pleasant enough conditions for early July In a leafy grove to my thoughts ever near A migratory nest parasite of the Summer of the year The voice of the cuckoo i fancy i hear A bird named for it's song which seems obviously clear The marvels of Nature an amazing thing The dark barn swallows chasing flying insects on the wing Birds the artists and writers in their sketching and words celebrate On mid to late Fall to warmer Lands they do migrate When Nature at her very finest is seen And everywhere is looking so lush and so green And wafting in the breeze the sweet aroma of hay In July by the mountains from here far away.