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25 Irish Songs, WoO 152: No. 4, The Morning Air Plays on My Face
Yehudi Menuhin, Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau, Heinrich Schiff, Hartmut Höll
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🇬🇧 English · Original
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The morning air plays on my face
And through the grain is peering
A soft and silv'ry sun at grace
Wood, wild, and mountain cheering
Larks aloft are singing
Oars from far out springing
And o'er the fen the wild ducks crew
Their early way are winging
Bright ev'ry dewy orchard shines
Sweet ev'ry herb is growing
To him whose willing heart inclines
The way that he is going
Fancy shows to me now
What will shortly be now
I'm panting at an apple tree
Who falls and welcomes me now
How slow he moves, the rising lurch
How quick my heart is beating
That lovely dame is on the watch
To frown at the now meeting
Why should I mind her?
See who stands behind her
Whose either would her frame prolong
The sweeter and the finer