How beautiful ye breathe ye passing gales

How beautiful ye breathe ye passing gales
Around the scenes of morning in its rest
The leavel meadows and the laughing vales
And broader lake with sunbeams on its breast
How beautiful ye glitter ye sunbeams
Upon the meadow lake and glassy glade
Where beautiful in all her youthful dreams
I walked with thee my once loved maid.


As lovely as the early gems of spring
The day-break and young flowers that grace the mead
Then walked she out at morn a sweet young thing
Fairest of the wild-flowers choisest breed
That mantle every sod with gold and silver shene
While skies with golden hue, or crimson shade
Or rose, or purple overtops the green
There in the morning wandered my sweet maid.


Ye springing gales how beautiful ye breath[e]
Along the tethered grass or silver pool
While sweet the ragged robbins wreath[e]
A brade of wild flowers by the waters cool
There wandered forth the maid with auburn hair
O'er thy sweet mead in sunlight and in shade
Pure as the wild flowers — as the summer fair.
The once loved, blooming beauty, fair, young maid.
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