LIKE TO A SONGLESS BIRD
Like to a songless bird that swings
On a high branch, and thrills to hear
How the deep-hearted forest rings
With melody enchanting clear,
On a high branch, and thrills to hear
How the deep-hearted forest rings
With melody enchanting clear,
And vainly swells his throat to wake
A song as pure as these that fill
The wood, and every echo shake,
Whilst he alone is dumb and still.
A song as pure as these that fill
The wood, and every echo shake,
Whilst he alone is dumb and still.
So, thrilling to the music dear
Since the first song woke, low and sweet;
To purest sound I bend my ear,
And with my heart the rhythms beat;
Since the first song woke, low and sweet;
To purest sound I bend my ear,
And with my heart the rhythms beat;
Until the palpitating Past
With melody becometh rife;
With parted lips and hands locked fast
I hear the songs of Love and Life.
With melody becometh rife;
With parted lips and hands locked fast
I hear the songs of Love and Life.
