 | Songs and ballads |  |
MORNING.
O'er the bending rushes,
O'er the waving corn,
Where the fountain gushes,
Speed the wings of Morn;
Like a bird in fleetness,
Singing on her way—
Fold me in thy sweetness,
Angel light of day!
O'er the waving corn,
Where the fountain gushes,
Speed the wings of Morn;
Like a bird in fleetness,
Singing on her way—
Fold me in thy sweetness,
Angel light of day!
Flow'rets without number,
As thy footsteps pass,
Lift their heads from slumber
Out the dewy grass.
Down the lowly meadow,
Up the rising ground,
Waves of light and shadow
Chase each other round.
As thy footsteps pass,
Lift their heads from slumber
Out the dewy grass.
Down the lowly meadow,
Up the rising ground,
Waves of light and shadow
Chase each other round.
25
From the wild bee's humming,
From the choral throng,
Know we thou art coming,
Bringing life and song:
Oh! thou golden Morning,
Brightest boon of earth;
Mead and mount adorning,
Blessed be thy birth!
From the choral throng,
Know we thou art coming,
Bringing life and song:
Oh! thou golden Morning,
Brightest boon of earth;
Mead and mount adorning,
Blessed be thy birth!
| Songs and ballads | |