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18
SPRING-TIME
Where chestnuts overhang the stream
Our boat shall lie; here may we dream
An hour away, and Care may wait.
Ah! sweet—
Ah! sweet
Thus for one hour to deviate
From the rude pathway marked by Fate.
Our boat shall lie; here may we dream
An hour away, and Care may wait.
Ah! sweet—
Ah! sweet
Thus for one hour to deviate
From the rude pathway marked by Fate.
Our home is here: the skylark flings
His music down, and tiniest things
Beat the still air with labouring wings.
Ah! sweet the odours,
Sweet the song;
Sweet to forget, these scenes among,
The jarring discords of the throng.
His music down, and tiniest things
Beat the still air with labouring wings.
Ah! sweet the odours,
Sweet the song;
Sweet to forget, these scenes among,
The jarring discords of the throng.
19
Now glide we onward ever slow,
And now, in the opal afterglow,
Listen, a voice sings clear and low.
Ah! sweet the singer;
Sweet the strain!
Ah when, ah when, tired heart and brain,
Will that song gladden thee again?
And now, in the opal afterglow,
Listen, a voice sings clear and low.
Ah! sweet the singer;
Sweet the strain!
Ah when, ah when, tired heart and brain,
Will that song gladden thee again?
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