Invitation

The Morning beareth on its dewy wing
     The fragrance of a thousand bursting flowers,
And Nature’s songsters have begun to sing
     Praises to Him who built their forest-bowers;
The green trees, in their bright appareling,
     Sprinkle the wakening earth with chrystal [sic] showers;
And the bright sun mounts upward, like a God,
     Pouring from golden urns his light abroad.

Come from thy couch, Katrine! and the cool air
     Shall greet thy cheek refreshingly, and kiss
The glossy ringlets of thy raven hair,
     As it could feel a consciousness of bliss!
Come to the fields with me, and let us share
     The joy of Nature on a morn like this;
And drink her blessed influence, as the sun
Drinks from the flowers the dew. Haste, dearest one!

Glad songs are floating on the winged wind—
     The birds, the brooks, are vocal with delight—
The Heavens smile as man had never sinned,
     And Earth rejoices in her splendor bright;
Come with thy lure—and we will leave behind
     The home of men, and let our hearts united
In the green wood, Where none but God above
Can hear the passionate language of our love!