Poems (Taggart)/The Happy Birds
THE HAPPY BIRDS.
Serenely now the day rolls on, And gladdening sun-beams playWide o'er the fair cerulean arch, With bright, unclouded ray:
And flitting o'er the verdant fields The feathered songsters move,Chirping unsullied pleasures forth, In varying tones of love.
Sweet was the hour, when Nature gave Her loveliest treasures birth,And sent these artless choristers To bless the smiling earth,
And blest are ye, gay, sinless Birds, That feel no human woe,No fierce disease, no mental pang, Nor sorrow's latent throe.
And sweet your matin song shall rise, And soft your vesper strain;And soothing harmony resound Throughout the sylvan plain.