THE MEADOW AIR IS SWEET.
The meadow air is sweet;—The cowslip’s cup of goldIs full of fresh and fragrant dew,—More full than it can hold.The meadow air is sweet;—The blackbird’s mellow note,Like water in a little brook,Flows gurgling from his throat.The meadow air is sweet;—The stream that cheers the leaWill feel the willow’s tender kiss,E’en to the distant sea.The meadow air is sweet;—Hark! from the old elm tree:—Ah! only lovers understandThe oriole’s ecstasy.The meadow air is sweet;—The clover, handsome-white,With dainty odors woos the bee,And fills her with delight.The meadow air is sweet;—The bobolink is there!When he is mute a faery fluteSeems echoing in the air.The meadow air is sweet;—The daisy in the grassLooks up to see the clouds, and feelTheir shadow as they pass.The meadow air is sweet;—The swallow flashes by,Too merry for a moment’s restBetween the earth and sky.The meadow air is sweet;—The day wanes in the west,And twilight’s soothing shadows lullA weary world to rest.The meadow air is sweet;—Like altar incense rare,It blends the robin’s even-songWith the little children’s prayer.
The meadow air is sweet;—The cowslip’s cup of goldIs full of fresh and fragrant dew,—More full than it can hold.The meadow air is sweet;—The blackbird’s mellow note,Like water in a little brook,Flows gurgling from his throat.The meadow air is sweet;—The stream that cheers the leaWill feel the willow’s tender kiss,E’en to the distant sea.The meadow air is sweet;—Hark! from the old elm tree:—Ah! only lovers understandThe oriole’s ecstasy.The meadow air is sweet;—The clover, handsome-white,With dainty odors woos the bee,And fills her with delight.The meadow air is sweet;—The bobolink is there!When he is mute a faery fluteSeems echoing in the air.The meadow air is sweet;—The daisy in the grassLooks up to see the clouds, and feelTheir shadow as they pass.The meadow air is sweet;—The swallow flashes by,Too merry for a moment’s restBetween the earth and sky.The meadow air is sweet;—The day wanes in the west,And twilight’s soothing shadows lullA weary world to rest.The meadow air is sweet;—Like altar incense rare,It blends the robin’s even-songWith the little children’s prayer.
The meadow air is sweet;—The cowslip’s cup of goldIs full of fresh and fragrant dew,—More full than it can hold.
The meadow air is sweet;—
The cowslip’s cup of gold
Is full of fresh and fragrant dew,—
More full than it can hold.
The meadow air is sweet;—The blackbird’s mellow note,Like water in a little brook,Flows gurgling from his throat.
The meadow air is sweet;—
The blackbird’s mellow note,
Like water in a little brook,
Flows gurgling from his throat.
The meadow air is sweet;—The stream that cheers the leaWill feel the willow’s tender kiss,E’en to the distant sea.
The meadow air is sweet;—
The stream that cheers the lea
Will feel the willow’s tender kiss,
E’en to the distant sea.
The meadow air is sweet;—Hark! from the old elm tree:—Ah! only lovers understandThe oriole’s ecstasy.
The meadow air is sweet;—
Hark! from the old elm tree:—
Ah! only lovers understand
The oriole’s ecstasy.
The meadow air is sweet;—The clover, handsome-white,With dainty odors woos the bee,And fills her with delight.
The meadow air is sweet;—
The clover, handsome-white,
With dainty odors woos the bee,
And fills her with delight.
The meadow air is sweet;—The bobolink is there!When he is mute a faery fluteSeems echoing in the air.
The meadow air is sweet;—
The bobolink is there!
When he is mute a faery flute
Seems echoing in the air.
The meadow air is sweet;—The daisy in the grassLooks up to see the clouds, and feelTheir shadow as they pass.
The meadow air is sweet;—
The daisy in the grass
Looks up to see the clouds, and feel
Their shadow as they pass.
The meadow air is sweet;—The swallow flashes by,Too merry for a moment’s restBetween the earth and sky.
The meadow air is sweet;—
The swallow flashes by,
Too merry for a moment’s rest
Between the earth and sky.
The meadow air is sweet;—The day wanes in the west,And twilight’s soothing shadows lullA weary world to rest.
The meadow air is sweet;—
The day wanes in the west,
And twilight’s soothing shadows lull
A weary world to rest.
The meadow air is sweet;—Like altar incense rare,It blends the robin’s even-songWith the little children’s prayer.
The meadow air is sweet;—
Like altar incense rare,
It blends the robin’s even-song
With the little children’s prayer.