Scythe Song - Andrew Lang

Mowers, weary and brown, and blithe,
What is the word methinks ye know —
Endless over-word that the scythe
Sings to the blades of the grass below?

Scythes that swing in the grass and clover,
Something, still, they say as they pass;
What is that word that, over and over,
Sings the scythe to the flowers and grass?
Hush, ah hush, the scythes are saying,
Hush, and heed not, and fall asleep;
Hush, they say to the grasses swaying;
Hush, they sing to the clover deep!
Hush— 'tis the lullaby Time is singing —
Hush, and heed not, for all things pass;
Hush, ah hush! and the scythes are swinging
Over the clover, over the grass!

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Andrew Lang (1844 - 1912) Scotland