In summertime on Bredon
The bells they sound so clear;
Round both the shires they ring them
In steeples far and near
A happy noise to hear

Here of a Sunday morning
My love and I would lie
And see the coloured counties
And hear the larks so high
About us in the sky

The bells would ring to call her
In valleys miles away;
"Come all to church, good people;
Good people come and pray."
But here my love would stay

And I would turn and answer
Among the springing thyme
"Oh, peal upon our wedding
And we will hear the chime
And come to church in time."

But when the snows at Christmas
On Bredon top were strown
My love rose up so early
And stole out unbeknown
And went to church alone
They tolled the one bell only
Groom there was none to see
The mourners followed after
And so to church went she
And would not wait for me

The bells they sound on Bredon
And still the steeples hum
"Come all to church, good people." -
O noisy bells, be dumb;
I hear you, I will come