'Twere bliss to see one lark Soar to the azure dark Singing upon his high celestial road. I have seen many hundreds soar, thank God! To see one Spring begin In her first heavenly green, Were grace unmeet for any mortal clod. I have seen many Springs begin, thank God! After the lark the swallow, Blackbirds in hill and hollow, Thrushes and nightingales all roads I trod, As though one bird were not enough, thank God! Not one flower, but a rout, All exquisite, are out: All white and golden every stretch of sod, As though one flower were not enough, thank God! |