SINGING IN THE DARK
O ye little warblers, flying fast and far
From the balmy south-land, where the roses are,
Robins red and blue-birds, do ye faint to see
How the chill snow-blossoms whiten shrub and tree?
From the balmy south-land, where the roses are,
Robins red and blue-birds, do ye faint to see
How the chill snow-blossoms whiten shrub and tree?
Through the snowy valley cold the north winds sweep;
Mother earth, half-wakened, turns again to sleep;
Silent lies the river in an icy trance,
And the frozen meadows wait the sun's hot glance.
Mother earth, half-wakened, turns again to sleep;
Silent lies the river in an icy trance,
And the frozen meadows wait the sun's hot glance.
Dull and gray the skies are. Soft and blue were those
That so late above you bent at daylight's close;
Do ye grieve, remembering all the balm and bloom,
All the warmth and sweetness of the starlit gloom?
That so late above you bent at daylight's close;
Do ye grieve, remembering all the balm and bloom,
All the warmth and sweetness of the starlit gloom?
Do ye sadly wonder what strange impulse drew
All your flashing pinions the far ether through?
Do ye count it madness that so wide ye strayed
From the starry jasmine and the orange shade?
All your flashing pinions the far ether through?
Do ye count it madness that so wide ye strayed
From the starry jasmine and the orange shade?
Yet this morn I heard ye singing in the dark,
Songs of such rare sweetness that the world might hark!
O ye blessed minstrels, silent not for pain,
God is in the heavens, and your sun shall shine again!
Songs of such rare sweetness that the world might hark!
O ye blessed minstrels, silent not for pain,
God is in the heavens, and your sun shall shine again!
