ON THE PRAIRIE
Acrossthe dewy prairieThe morning wind is borne,Beyond the new-mown hayfields,And through the tasseled corn.Upon the silver-maplesIt lifts the swinging leaves,And steals a subtile sweetnessFrom rows of golden sheaves.Within the sunny orchardThe harvest apples fall,While from the tossing branchesThe saucy jay-birds call.In crinkled, fringy clustersThe scarlet poppies burn,Where, softly opening, eastwardThe yellow sunflowers turn.And nibbling in the garden,Between the cherry trees,I see a robber rabbitAmong the pink sweet-peas.While with a fitful fanning,The lazy wind-mill swings,About the bloomy peachesA robin redbreast sings.And in the far horizonThere dwells such tender hue,These azure cornflower blossomsAre not so sweet and blue.
Acrossthe dewy prairieThe morning wind is borne,Beyond the new-mown hayfields,And through the tasseled corn.Upon the silver-maplesIt lifts the swinging leaves,And steals a subtile sweetnessFrom rows of golden sheaves.Within the sunny orchardThe harvest apples fall,While from the tossing branchesThe saucy jay-birds call.In crinkled, fringy clustersThe scarlet poppies burn,Where, softly opening, eastwardThe yellow sunflowers turn.And nibbling in the garden,Between the cherry trees,I see a robber rabbitAmong the pink sweet-peas.While with a fitful fanning,The lazy wind-mill swings,About the bloomy peachesA robin redbreast sings.And in the far horizonThere dwells such tender hue,These azure cornflower blossomsAre not so sweet and blue.
Acrossthe dewy prairieThe morning wind is borne,Beyond the new-mown hayfields,And through the tasseled corn.
Acrossthe dewy prairie
The morning wind is borne,
Beyond the new-mown hayfields,
And through the tasseled corn.
Upon the silver-maplesIt lifts the swinging leaves,And steals a subtile sweetnessFrom rows of golden sheaves.
Upon the silver-maples
It lifts the swinging leaves,
And steals a subtile sweetness
From rows of golden sheaves.
Within the sunny orchardThe harvest apples fall,While from the tossing branchesThe saucy jay-birds call.
Within the sunny orchard
The harvest apples fall,
While from the tossing branches
The saucy jay-birds call.
In crinkled, fringy clustersThe scarlet poppies burn,Where, softly opening, eastwardThe yellow sunflowers turn.
In crinkled, fringy clusters
The scarlet poppies burn,
Where, softly opening, eastward
The yellow sunflowers turn.
And nibbling in the garden,Between the cherry trees,I see a robber rabbitAmong the pink sweet-peas.
And nibbling in the garden,
Between the cherry trees,
I see a robber rabbit
Among the pink sweet-peas.
While with a fitful fanning,The lazy wind-mill swings,About the bloomy peachesA robin redbreast sings.
While with a fitful fanning,
The lazy wind-mill swings,
About the bloomy peaches
A robin redbreast sings.
And in the far horizonThere dwells such tender hue,These azure cornflower blossomsAre not so sweet and blue.
And in the far horizon
There dwells such tender hue,
These azure cornflower blossoms
Are not so sweet and blue.