Evening Songs
XLVIII
Don’t wonder, shouldst Thou chance to hear
Birds sing of Thy love's wooing;
They called once at my window sill
To see what I was doing.
And they again came and again
And soon taught me to love them,
For I am free just as they are
And am just like one of them.
I sang them many songs of Thee
That in sweet love abounded,
And they soon tuned their throats to them
Till in their songs love sounded.
The other day I called on them
In their woods and nooks shady
And was surprised to find the birds
To sing my songs already.
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