With laughing strains of lullabies!
You know soft voices, rich with love,
That mingle in the fields and woods,
To bless the silent solitudes
With carols coming from above.

Your golden harps resound alway,
Where valley bound with blossom lies,
And rugged mountains highest rise,
And silver fountains softly play;
While in the gladness of your songs
The fainting bosoms hope again,
And toil among their fellow men,
Forgetful of their ancient wrongs.

You sport with singing meadows bright,
With fragrant winds and scented gales,
Where shine and shadow kiss the vales
In fairy fondness of delight;
For where the meads and forests blend,
The sweetest songs of life are found,
And where the lonely hills abound
The soul of music meets a friend.

Glad hearts that warble songs divine,
Sweet singers of a mourning race,
The ages long your brows shall grace
With crowns where bays and laurels twine!
For man the grandest garland brings,
To bless the tender lives that tell,