| |
| SWEETLY float o’er town and tower | |
| Strains that mark the dawning hour; | |
| Soothing, as it glides along, | |
| Yon fair stream with tinkling song: | |
| Over vineyard, rock, and wood, | 5 |
| And where ancient bastion stood, | |
| Heralds now of peaceful times, | |
| Sweetly float the Salzburg chimes. | |
| |
| Once again,—from this green hill | |
| Echo lets no leaf be still; | 10 |
| Once again,—the Salza’s breast | |
| Gives the welling sounds no rest: | |
| Distant in the spreading plain | |
| Mount and tower take up the strain, | |
| Till in yonder Alpine climes | 15 |
| Herdsmen catch the Salzburg chimes. | |
| |
| Yet once again! the merry merry child | |
| Dances to the melody with gambols wild; | |
| Yet once more! the sentry stern | |
| Paces to the time at every turn: | 20 |
| E’en the sick on painful bed | |
| Lifts in hope his weary head, | |
| And hoary elders bless the times | |
| When first they heard the Salzburg chimes. | |
| |
| Yet once more! ere noonday rise, | 25 |
| Part our steps for other skies; | |
| Yet once more! in memory’s ear | |
| Still shall sound that music clear; | |
| And in England’s homes of light, | |
| When the cheerful hearth is bright, | 30 |
| Will we, in far distant climes, | |
| Wake the slumbering Salzburg chimes. | |
| |
