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River east: isn't it pleasing?
Spring and sunrise, gamboling.
Oh, my! Whin on a mountainside?
Stargazer, feeling the tide.

What am I? Older than Babylon,
Old as sin, and way, way gone.
Hours, days—count them in magic ways:
Sky numbers, all of the shine.

And Tuesday has a moon noon,
And Monday has a sunny one;
Sunday has a cold, old,
And Friday has a funny one.

River south: something to shout about,
Summer, mid-day, mothering.
Ooh, ooh! Heather is blooming now:
Stargazer, thinking of you.

Holy lights, and heavenly sums:
Into double-dozen seven goes
Three times through, and three left over's why
Monday comes at Sunday's door.

And that's why Tuesday has a moon noon,
And Monday has a sunny one;
Sunday has a cold, old,
And Friday has a funny one.

River west: you get the best of it,
Autumn, sunset, balancing.
Eh, yeh! Trembling people-tree:
Starpraiser, bending his knee.

First comes Papa, oldest of all of them,
By Jove, past the Red One then;
Sun comes next, with Love and the Messenger,
Then moon-ruled sublunary tunes.

Yes, Tuesday has a moon noon,
And Monday has a sunny one;
Sunday has a cold, old,
And Friday has a funny one.

River north: colder? Of course it is!
Winter, midnight, hardening.
Aiee! A yew and Christmas tree?
Always your friend when you need me.

By the way—Saturn's is loving,
Thursday's quick and kind of sly.
Wednesday noon's a not-very-nice-a-one,
Way too feisty son-of-a-gun.

But Tuesday has a moon noon,
And Monday has a sunny one;
Sunday has a cold, old,
And Friday has a funny one.

Tuesday has a moon noon,
And Monday has a sunny one;
Sunday has a cold, old,
And Friday has a funny-bunny one.

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Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.