ONE DAY.
293
The sunshine of the morning
Is abroad upon the hills,
With the singing of the green-wood leaves,
And of a thousand rills.
There springs the youthful hunter
With his winged spear and bow,
He hath the falcon's flashing eye,
The fleet foot of the roe.
He goes with a light carol,
And his own heart is as light;
On, on he bounds from rock to rock,
Rejoicing in his might.
The sunshine of the morning
Is abroad upon yon fane,
There, mid his country's monuments,
Dreams the young bard his strain.
U 3
