Now what care I For sodden sky And angry tempest blowing? In happy dream My soul's a-gleam, And all the world is glowing. And what though May With blossoms gay Is held in Winter's power? My heart's bright room Is filled with bloom, And all the world's in flower. What though the snow In silent woe To silent woods is clinging? My soul with June Is yet in tune, And all the world is singing. Come, skies and songs And blossom throngs In gloomy exile straying; Here's one poor heart Has ample art To set you all a-Maying. |