Then ope bright blooms upon our way,
And make the children’s hour
With beauty crown each day.
Play on, ye little ones, play on,
And cheer us with your guileless mirth;
Too soon your careless days are gone
And later years see sorrow’s birth.
We love your bright eyes’ merry glance,
We love your voices’ gleesome ring;
To trip with you th’ unrhythm’d dance