Blow away the morning dew is yet another song known since childhood and have recently taken into my repertoire after coming across it in
Folk Songs of the British Isles. It is a delight to sing with a over-burred Worcestershire accent. The lyrics are very evocative of the eternal summer days of childhood deep in rural England with its litany of simple field flowers known to any child. Personally, I am always reminded of "going up the slip", i.e. going to cow pastures on the banks of the River Severn mainly for a refreshing swim in her muddy but cool waters but also to "espy the pretty lasses" as the song goes.
Andrew Gant maintains than the song comes from Somerset which explains my tendency to overdo the burr somewhat.