Where'er you walk
cool gales shall fan the glade.
Trees where you sit
shall crowd into a shade.
Where'er you tread
the blushing flowers shall rise,
and all things flourish
where'er you turn your eyes.
From Semele, by Handel.
Love it. Love the music, too, which I am unable to find.
3 comments:
Here at home, I mean.
I remember that song...
Me too!
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