With the perfume of the clover.
A bonny boat with a pennon gay,
Like a nymph on the blue is sleeping —
To the fairy lake, oh, let us away,
While the sun from the hills is peeping.
Let us go to the upland airy lea,
Where the silent flocks are browsing;
We’ll pass the dale where the honey-bee
His early store is housing.
Our path shall lead through the meadow lane,