And many another chorister
That time would fail to tell,
Who helps to make the woods resound
With bursts of rich melodious sound
That answering echoes from around
To one grand chorus swell.
That time would fail to tell,
Who helps to make the woods resound
With bursts of rich melodious sound
That answering echoes from around
To one grand chorus swell.
Long may your notes of blithesome cheer
The rounds of life beguile.
Long may your bright hues flash and shine
In this proud, happy land of mine,
In this free, joyous land of thine,
Gay choir of forest aisle!
The rounds of life beguile.
Long may your bright hues flash and shine
In this proud, happy land of mine,
In this free, joyous land of thine,
Gay choir of forest aisle!
Come when the dove's low cooing calls
To Spring's first bursting bud.
Come when the honey-bee invites,
To Summer's bounteous delights
To sunny days and moonlight nights
The fruitful field and wood.
To Spring's first bursting bud.
Come when the honey-bee invites,
To Summer's bounteous delights
To sunny days and moonlight nights
The fruitful field and wood.
And when the sere and yellow leaf
Falls murmuring to the ground,
Tarry, to chant creation's praise
In your own sunny, witching ways,
So long as bloom and fruitage stays
Or sheltering nooks are found.
Falls murmuring to the ground,
Tarry, to chant creation's praise
In your own sunny, witching ways,
So long as bloom and fruitage stays
Or sheltering nooks are found.
And when my life's glad Spring is past,
Its apple-blooms decayed;
And when my life's sweet Summer goes
No more its beauties to unclose;
When time has bloomed its latest rose
In loneliness to fade.
Its apple-blooms decayed;
And when my life's sweet Summer goes
No more its beauties to unclose;
When time has bloomed its latest rose
In loneliness to fade.
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