THE CHILDREN OF THE FIELDs

The bells are ringing
The children are
Singing there folk
Songs as they run
and Laugh and play 
They are the children
Of the fields 

The skys are blue 
The sun is bright
As the children
Of the fields run
Through the flowers
Past the rivers and 
the streams they are
The children of the fields

As they sing there folk
Songs   ring -a-ring o' roses
A pocket full of posies 
A-tishoo! A-tishoo!
we  all fall down they 
laugh and run away
They are the children
of the fields