Where the apple-bloom icebergs plunged fearless and free,
And the larks carolled madly their high jubilee
In the ether.
The daisies ran riot in sunshine and shade,
And the call of the cuckoo was heard from the glade,
Where Summer with mellow monotony play'd
On her zither.
Tempo di Valse.
Ho, larks and roses!
Hey, the bonny weather!