Full Lyrics
Autumn winds are sighing,
Summer winds are dying,
Harvest time is nigh.
Cooler breezes quiv’ring
Through the pine groves shiv’ring,
Sweep the troubled moonlit sky.
See the fields how yellow!
Clusters, bright and mellow,
Gleam on every hill.
Nectar fills the fountains,
Crowns the sunny mountains,
Runs in every rill.
Now the lads are springing,
Maidens blithe are singing,
Swells the harvest strain.
Every field rejoices,
Thousand thankful voices,
Mingle on the plain.
Then the day reclineth
And the mild moon shineth,
Tabors sweetly sound.
And while they are sounding,
Fairy feet are bounding
O’er the fragrant moonlit ground,
“From the German”
