My labor in the open air, Is health and strength affording, 3 All future ills I let alone, And who is richer, who than me, And makes me able well to spare, For every day has but its own, Yet sweetly rests my weary head, And never is my heart depressed, I And not another's sorrow. Thus free and happy do I live, Contented, cheerful, ever; thank the hand so good to give, Withholding from me, never. by the paling grey, Where many a merry face is seen, As gent-ly falls the day. 2 How sweet when work is laid aside, And closed the doors of school, Among the spreading trees to hide, That shade the limpid pool; And let us run a merry race, 3 Oh! pleasant is the merry ring, The race o'er hill and dale; And lightsome are the hearts that sing, When evening sports prevail; But fainter, fainter grows the sound, Less jocund is the play, For twilight shades are gathering round, As gently falls the day. How beautiful the morning, TUNE, "The Fall of Day," p. 72. 2 When summer days are long; Oh, we will rise betimes and hear, The wild-bird's happy song. For when the sun pours down his ray, The bird will cease to sing; She'll seek the cool and silent shade, And sit with folded wing Up, in the morning early, 'Tis nature's gayest hour! While pearls of dew adorn the grass, And we will bound abroad, And raise our songs to God. |