How bright the sunshine dances in its joy,
O'er the still flow of this majestic river!

How bright the sunshine dances in its joy,
O'er the still flow of this majestic river!

Two ways the rivers
Leap down to different seas, and as they roll
Grow deep and still, read more

Two ways the rivers
Leap down to different seas, and as they roll
Grow deep and still, and their majestic presence
Becomes a benefaction to the towns
They visit, wandering silently among them,
Like patriarchs old among their shining tents.

Now scantier limits the proud arch confine,
And scarce are seen the prostrate Nile or Rhine;
A read more

Now scantier limits the proud arch confine,
And scarce are seen the prostrate Nile or Rhine;
A small Euphrates thro' the piece is roll'd,
And little eagles wave their wings in gold.

Out of the hills of Habersham,
Down the valleys of Hall,
I hurry amain to reach the read more

Out of the hills of Habersham,
Down the valleys of Hall,
I hurry amain to reach the plain;
Run the rapid and leap the fall,
Split at the rock, and together again
Accept my bed, or narrow or wide,
And flee from folly on every side
With a lover's pain to attain the plain,
Far from the hills of Habersham,
Far from the valleys of Hall.

Farewell, my friends! farewell, my foes!
My peace with these, my love with those.
The bursting tears read more

Farewell, my friends! farewell, my foes!
My peace with these, my love with those.
The bursting tears my heart declare;
Farewell, the bonnie banks of Ayr.

Rivers are roads that move and carry us whither we wish to go.
[Fr., Les rivieres sont des chemins read more

Rivers are roads that move and carry us whither we wish to go.
[Fr., Les rivieres sont des chemins qui marchant et qui portent
ou l'on veut aller.]

"O Mary, go and call the cattle home,
And call the cattle home,
And call the cattle read more

"O Mary, go and call the cattle home,
And call the cattle home,
And call the cattle home,
Across the sands o' Dee;"
The western wind was wild and dank wi' foam
And all alone went she.

At last the Muses rose, . . . And scattered, . . . as they flew,
Their blooming wreaths read more

At last the Muses rose, . . . And scattered, . . . as they flew,
Their blooming wreaths from fair Valclusa's bowers
To Arno's myrtle border.

By shallow rivers, to whose falls
Melodies birds sing madrigals.

By shallow rivers, to whose falls
Melodies birds sing madrigals.