l'Ob't o:r •.lfl!U.
The mnis wild, with many a note,
Sings drowsy day to rest;
ln love and freedom they rejoice,
With care ~or thrall oppreat.Now blooms tht! lily by the bank,
The primroae down the brae ;
The hawthorn's budding in the glen,
And milk-white is the alae.G:~t Join af ip-ting.
! 1 OOJB, 1 oome I ye have call'd rue long-
{ come o'er the mountaillll with light and song I
Ye ma)' trace my step o'er the waking eo.rth
By the wiflds which tell of th~ violet's birth,
By the primrose-stars in the shadowy grnss,
By the green lee. vee opening as I pasa.
I have breathed on the South, and the chestnut BoweN,
By tho1181Ulde 1 have bun~t from the foreat-bowers,
And the ancient graves, and the fallen fanes
Are veil'd with wreathe on Italian plains;-
Bnt it ie not for me, in my houl' of blooru,
To apeak of the ruin or the tomb I
1 have look'd on the hills of the stormy North,
.And the larch has hung aU his tassels forth,
The fisl1er is out on the sunny sea,
And the reindeer bounds through the pastul'e free,
And the pine has a fl'inge of softer green,
And the moss looks bright where my foot hath been.
I ba..,e sent through the wood-paths a glowing aigb,
And call'd out each voice of the deep-blue sky;
-rrom the night-bird'slo.y through the stArry-time,
ln the groves of the soft Hesperian clime,
To the swan's wild note by tfte Iceland lakes,
'When the dark til'-branch into verdure break&.
From the streams and fount. 1 haYe loosed •he chain,
They IU"8 sweeping oo to th.e ailvery ma.io,
They are ft!l.l:lhing down from the mountain brows,
They are flinging 11pray o'er t"be forest bough~;
They a~:e bun~ting frtab from theit -vaJ'lj cavea,
ADd the earth l't!IMIWlda with the joy of waves I
lba. B.mu.Ns.
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