The lingering morn is come—
The long sweet morn of summer’s day!
The brooding mists are flown;
And brightly on his golden way
Comes the long absent sun.
With the mirth of light hearts, and the horn’s deep sound,
And the stirring bay of the restless hound,
Away from the hunter’s home!
Away to the forest vast!
The warm rays have shone on peaks of snow—