V.

Brightly broke the summer morn, Like a lark from out the corn,— Broke like joy just newly born From the depths of woe forlorn,—

Broke with grateful songs of birds, Lowings of well-pastured herds;

Hailed by childhood's happy looks, Cheered by anthems of the brooks— Chants beyond the lore of books— Cawing crows, instead of rooks.

Glowed the heavens—rose the sun, Mariline was up, for one.