No. 19 - Song - Hélène
Hélène: | When all the Eastern sky's a-blush With rosy flush of day new-born, The caroll'd matins of the thrush Beneath my window greet the morn; With merry heart he meets the day While yet the day is scarce begun. I hear his rhythmic roundelay Pour'd forth in welcome to the sun. And oh! but a merry little bird is he As he swings on his perch in the apple tree. "Good-day! Good-day!" he seems to say, Away with all repining! Away with all repining! The skies are blue and pearls of dew On ev'ry blade are shining, are shining for you. |
But when the sun is overlaid With angry clouds and wrapp'd in mist, His song he warbles undismayed, This cheery little optimist, Whate'er the ills that be in store With gladsome pips he'll still attest That blackest hours are soonest o'er And all that is is for the best. And oh! but a merry little bird is he As he swings on his perch in the apple tree. "Good-day! Good-day!" he seems to say, Away with all repining! Away with all repining! The passing show'r last but an hour, The sun will soon be shining, be shining for you. |
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When o'er the sunset's crimson glow Pale stars gleam faint in opal skies, He sings "farewell" and clear and low The last sweet cadence floats and dies, Blithe little bird so may we all Meet all the cares that round us throng, And when the evening shadows fall Pour out with him our evensong. For oh! but a merry little bird is he Though he flies to his nest in the apple tree. "Good-night!" he seems to say, "Goodnight!" A truce to ev'ry trouble! A truce to ev'ry trouble! Dull care may threat but bravely met 'Twill prove a bursting bubble, A bubble Goodnight! |
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Ah! Good night! |
Page modified 15 November 2016