And double spring inspires the year.
O, happy land! his tenderest care
Thee, favour’d! the Creator yields,
And kindest smile: ne’er from thy fields
Again may fate me fiercely tear!
O, let my last sun light me there!
How sweet it is to hear the rain,
My love! so softly falling thus
On the low roof that shelters us!
And the winds whistling o’er the plain