The sun is on the mountain crest, The sky without a cloud, The moon is slipping down the west, The robin's song is loud; White blossoms crown the apple trees, The dew is on the thorn, The scent of roses fills the breeze, -- Thank God, another morn! The sunset embers smoulder low, The moon climbs o'er the hill, The peaks have caught the alpenglow, The robin's song is still; The hush of peace is on the earth, With stars the sky grows bright, The fire is kindled on my hearth, -- Thank God, another night! |