Les Champs

Come forth, dear Rose; look, look, 'tis day!
Leave thy soft pillow, and away!
Hear'st thou the bells how loud they chime,
To tell thee 'tis our trysted time?
Let's seek, far off from city's noise,
Some spot secluded for our joys
Come, 'mid the fields glad days prolong:
There's pleasure, too, the fields among

Come, range the fields; their verdure tread,
By lover's arm securely led:
On Nature let us look more nearly,
And learn from her to love more dearly
The little birds, awakened all,
To shady bowers our footsteps call:
Come, 'mid the fields glad days prolong:
There's pleasure, too, the fields among

The village tastes for ours we'll take:
Thee shall the dawn of day awake;
And where the trees arch overhead,
At close of day our couch we'll spread:
Ah! may'st thou, loved one, in mine ear
Complain how long the days appear.
Come, 'mid the fields glad days prolong:
There's pleasure, too, the fields among

When Summer on the fertile soil
Calls sturdy reapers to their toil,
Where near them the light-footed maid
Plies for the poor the gleaner's trade,
How many a kiss behind the sheaves
The struggling shepherdess receives!
Come, 'mid the fields glad days prolong:
There's pleasure, too, the fields among

When Autumn from her horn distils
Rich nectar in o'ergushing rills,
Where the big vat ferments, we'll see
Some veteran, gay as gay may be;
The village oracle — his lays
Will tell of love in by gone days
Come, 'mid the fields glad days prolong:
There's pleasure, too, the fields among

Come, Rose, we'll roam by shores at hand;
To thee 'twill seem some far off strand
There to mine eye, though thick the shade,
Thy faltering step will be betrayed:
Love for a mossy couch would look —
The grass so soft — so still the nook
Come, 'mid the fields glad days prolong:
There's pleasure, too, the fields among.

'Tis done — vain empty shows, adieu!
Paris, farewell! thy joys I knew:
There Art its miracles may show —
Affection there has ceased to glow
Ah! Rose, 'twere well that envy's eye
Our life's soft secret should not spy;
Come, 'mid the fields glad days prolong:
There's pleasure, too, the fields among