John Greenleaf Whittier

“ Like moun - tain - ran - ges o - ver - past,
heart is young a - gain, The west - winds blow, and,
through the au - tumn morn; Yet shall the blue - eyed
all my prayers have told I E - nough that bless - ings
pur - ple dis - tance fair;mdash; And so the shad - ows
sing - ing low, I hear the glad streams run; The
gen - tian look Thro' fring - ed lids to heaven. And
de - served Have marked my err - ing track;— That
fall a - part. And so the west - winds play: And
dim.
win - dows of my soul I throw Wide o - pen to the sun. ”