Where the woes of the wood in their darkness hang over
The grasses that wave with the winds of the glade;
From the chimes of the breezes there echo no measures
That gladden the gale with a music divine;
In the troubles they languish who shrink from the pleasures,
They weep in the shadow that rail at the shine.
Ah, the world is abounding with wonderful glories
And wild are the warbles that sweeten its ways
While the songs of the land sing their beautiful stories,
And scatter their melodies over the days!