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Rh I'd be the first to see the sun Up from the ocean spring; And ere it touch'd the glitt'ring spire, Its ray should gild my wing.

Above the hills I'd watch him still Far down the crimson west, And sing to him my evening song Ere yet I sought my rest. And many a land I then should see, As hill and plain I cross'd; Nor fear, through all the pathless sky, That I should ere be lost.

Now if I climb our highest hill, How little can I see! Oh, had I but a pair of wings, How happy should I be! I wish I were a little bird, To fly so far and high, To sail along the golden clouds, And through the azure sky.

 

the bee sucks, there lurk I; In a cowslip's bell I lie; There I crouch when owls do cry: On the bat's back I do fiy, After sunset, merrily. Merrily, merrily shall I live now, Under the blossom that hangs on the bough. Merrily, merrily shall I live now, Under the blossom that hangs on the bough.

