See, the east is glowing with golden-tinted light, and the morn calls to
us with the breath of youth.
See, the incense rises from every dewy leaf; and the morn calls to us
with the breath of youth.
The air floats, balmy, o’er hill, and wood, and lake; and the morn calls
to us with the breath of youth.
The spear stands, impatient, by the wall; the bow, unstrung, lies
mourning at the door; while the morn calls to us with the breath of
youth.
Hark! The horn winds joy, and the echoes laugh, and leap, and
dance—trr, trr, trr, trr, trrwhroo, trrwhroo—in circles of mad
delight.
Awake, then, awake; for the horn winds joy, and the echoes laugh, and
leap, and dance—trr, trr, trr, trr, trrwhroo, trrwhroo—in circles of
mad delight; and the morn calls to us with the breath of youth.
Now press the foot, and watchful be the eye, for the spear is in the
hand, and the arrow on the string, and the horn winds joy, and the
echoes laugh, and leap, and dance—trr, trr, trr, trr, trrwhroo,
trrwhroo—in circles of mad delight.
Away, and away, in a race against the sun; while the horn winds joy, and
the echoes laugh, and leap, and dance—trr, trr, trr, trr, trrwhroo,
trrwhroo—in circles of mad delight.
Of the strong, we are the strongest, and of the fleet, we are the
fleetest; while the horn winds joy, and the echoes laugh, and leap, and
dance—trr, trr, trr, trr, trrwhroo, trrwhroo—in circles of mad
delight.
The game flies, scudding athwart the forest path, while the horn winds
joy, and the echoes laugh, and leap, and dance—trr, trr, trr, trr,
trrwhroo, trrwhroo—in circles of mad delight.
The wolf howls defiance, and hastens to his lair; the deer, suspicious,
scents the coming storm; the lion’s deep growl comes rolling up the
glen, while the horn winds joy, and the echoes laugh, and leap, and
dance—trr, trr, trr, trr, trrwhroo, trrwhroo—in circles of mad
delight.
Then press the foot, and watchful be the eye; for the spear is in the
hand, and the arrow on the string; and the horn winds joy, and the
echoes laugh, and leap, and dance—trr, trr, trr, trr, trrwhroo,
trrwhroo—in circles of mad delight; and the morn calls to us with the
breath of youth.