The mists of the morning are rolling away, The foam of the billows already I see, 1 The spring breathes around us so softly and warm, And there floats my barque, still in waiting for me. She clothes them with verdure so lovely and fair. |
The mists of the morning are rolling away, The foam of the billows already I see, 1 The spring breathes around us so softly and warm, And there floats my barque, still in waiting for me. She clothes them with verdure so lovely and fair. |