Drenching the earth in the freshest ultraviolet radiation,
Is the cherry faced Sun,flush with exultation
Brimming with exuberance our feather-friends fly from afar,
Flapping their colourful plumes ...
Late, late yestreen I saw the new moon,
With the old moon in her arms;
And I fear, I fear, my master dear!
We shall have a deadly storm.
Ballad of Sir Patrick Spence.