The morning air plays on my face

The morning air plays on my face,

And through the grey mist peering,

The soften'd silv'ry sun I trace,

Wood wild, and mountain cheering.

Larks aloft are singing,

Hares from covert springing,

And o'er the fen the wild duck's brood

Their early way are winging.

Bright ev'ry dewy hawthorn shines,

Sweet ev'ry herb is growing,

To him whose willing heart inclines

The way that he is going.

Fancy shews to me, now,

What will shortly be now,

I'm patting at her door, poor Tray,

Who fawns and welcomes me now.

How slowly moves the rising latch!

How quick my heart is beating.

That worldly dame is on the watch

To frown upon our meeting.

Fy! Why should I mind her,

See, who stands behind her,

Whose eye doth on her trav'ller look

The sweeter and the kinder.

Oh! Ev'ry bounding step I take,

Each hour the clock is telling,

Bears me o'er mountain, bourne, and brake,

Still nearer to her dwelling.

Day is shining brighter,

Limbs are moving lighter,

While ev'ry thought to Nora's love

But binds my faith to tighter.