by Joanna Baillie (1762 - 1851)
The morning air plays on my face
Language: English
The morning air plays on my face, And through the grey mist peering, The soften'd silv'ry sun I trace, Wood wild, and mountain cheering. Larks aloft are singing, Hares from covert springing, And o'er the fen the wild duck's brood Their early way are winging. Bright ev'ry dewy hawthorn shines, Sweet ev'ry herb is growing, To him whose willing heart inclines The way that he is going. Fancy shews to me, now, What will shortly be now, I'm patting at her door, poor Tray, Who fawns and welcomes me now. How slowly moves the rising latch! How quick my heart is beating. That worldly dame is on the watch To frown upon our meeting. Fy! Why should I mind her, See, who stands behind her, Whose eye doth on her trav'ller look The sweeter and the kinder. Oh! Ev'ry bounding step I take, Each hour the clock is telling, Bears me o'er mountain, bourne, and brake, Still nearer to her dwelling. Day is shining brighter, Limbs are moving lighter, While ev'ry thought to Nora's love But binds my faith to tighter.
Note: Fy! = Fie!
Authorship:
- by Joanna Baillie (1762 - 1851), "The morning air plays on my face" [author's text not yet checked against a primary source]
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):
- by Ludwig van Beethoven (1770 - 1827), "The morning air plays on my face", WoO. 152 (25 irische Lieder) no. 4, G. 223 no. 4 (1810/3) [ voice, violin, violoncello, piano ] [sung text checked 1 time]
Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- GER German (Deutsch) [singable] (Georg Pertz) , "Der Morgenwind umspielt mein Haar"
Researcher for this page: Ferdinando Albeggiani
This text was added to the website: 2004-12-10
Line count: 32
Word count: 181