XXVIII
SPRING IN THE HEARTGlad hopes fly down into my waiting heart
From yonder world of blue,
That lets them through;
They come as straight and swift as winged dart,
But soft and light, I trow,
As bird on bough.
From yonder world of blue,
That lets them through;
They come as straight and swift as winged dart,
But soft and light, I trow,
As bird on bough.
Times there have been when I have all day long
Gazed wearily aloft
For pinion soft;
Nor caught as much as distant note of song,
Or plume dropped on my hand,
From that far land.
Gazed wearily aloft
For pinion soft;
Nor caught as much as distant note of song,
Or plume dropped on my hand,
From that far land.
But now the air is gentle with their flight,
While on soft-sailing wing
Glad news they bring;
And some fly low, and on my heart alight,
And weave a little nest
Within my breast.
While on soft-sailing wing
Glad news they bring;
And some fly low, and on my heart alight,
And weave a little nest
Within my breast.
It is a simple little song they sing;
But, such as it may be,
'Tis sweet to me,—
A song of life renewed and blossoming,
Full waters, pastures green,
And days serene.
But, such as it may be,
'Tis sweet to me,—
A song of life renewed and blossoming,
Full waters, pastures green,
And days serene.
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