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THE HUNTER’S SERENADE.
55
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In all this love-ly West-ern land, A spot so love - ly yet;
My ri - fle for thy feast shall bring The wild-swan from the sky.
And at my si - lent win - do w- sill The jes- sa - mine peeps in.
But I shall think it fair - er When thou art come to bless,
The for-est’s leap - ing pan - ther. Fierce, beauti - ful and fleet,
All day the red - bird war - bles Up - on the mulber-ry near,
With thy sweet smile and sil - ver voice, Its si - lent love - li - ness.
Shall yield his spot- ted hide to be A car - pet for thy feet.
And the night - spar- row trills her song All night, with none to hear.
