The sun is on the mountain crest,
The sky without a cloud,
The moon is slipping down the west,
The robin's song is loud;
White blossoms crown the apple trees,
The dew is on the thorn,
The scent of roses fills the breeze,-
Thank God, another morn!
The sunset embers smoulder low,
The moon climbs o'er the hill,
The peaks have caught the alpenglow,
The robin's song is still;
The hush of peace is on the earth,
With stars the sky grows bright,
The fire is kindled on my hearth,-
Thank God, another night!