Cheerily thy bugle sounds,
When home returning o'er the lake;
Merrily my bosom bounds,
As each clear swell bids echo wake.
Joyously I wing the note,
To tell thee that thy hunter's near;
Merrily I speed my boat
Towards the home by thee made dear
Dearest for thee, thee only,
These mountain wilds are sweet to me;
Each crag and valley lonely,
Is blest because tis' lov'd by thee.
Sound, sound, sound, sound the merry, merry mountain horn,
At evening's close and morning's rosy dawn.
Fearlessly thy footsteps roam,
Where snows hang on the dizzy steep;
Driving from its rocky hom
The exho of the hollow deep.
Merrily the wild stag bounds
Until he feels the hunter's spear;
Cheerily the glen resounds,
With chorus and the hunter's cheer.
Dearest for thee ...
Hewitt, John Hill, "Mountain Bugle" (1839). Historic Sheet Music Collection. 1618.
The views expressed in this paper are solely those of the author.