O, gentle shade of quiet woods, Where nature dwells in leafy halls, I love the sacred voice that falls In music o'er thy solitudes! Within thine arms the weary heart Is hidden from the toils of men,...
Quaff the glass, the wine is red, And the rose of youth is glowing, While the toils of life are fled And the snows of age are going; Quaff it with a hearty will, Quaff it deep and quaff forever;...