The MusesSon（1 / 2）

Johann Wolfgang Vohe

Through field and wood to stray

And pipe y tuneful y,—

Tis th y days are pass

And all keep tuh ,

And oveharony,

And so on, to the st.

To wait I scarce have power

The gardens earliest flower,

The trees first blooSprg;

They hail y joyo stra,—

When Wter es aga,

Of that sweet drea I sg.

My song sounds far and near,

Oer ice it echoes clear,

Then Wter blossht;