I would I were the light-winged bird
That carols on the breezy air,
When summer songs of joy are heard,
And fields and skies are fair!
When verdure lives on every tree,
And beauty blooms o’er land and sea.
Then when the morn to deck her brow,
A chaplet weaves of golden light,
And sparkle on each waving bough
Her gems, like diamonds bright—