In the blue sky thy voice is rich and clear;
And the free brooks have songs to bless thy reign—
They leap in music midst thy bright domain.
The gales that wander from the unclouded west
Are burden’d with the breath of countless fields;
They teem with incense from the green earth’s breast,
That up to heaven its grateful odor yields,
Bearing sweet hymns of praise from many a bird,
By nature’s aspect into rapture stirr’d.
In such a scene the sun-illumin’d heart