And fashion to their strenuous will

The world that is creating still.

Do you hear it, do you hear it

Soaring up to heaven, or somewhere near it?

From the depths of life upheaving,

Clouds of earth and sorrow cleaving,

From despair and death retrieving,

[55]

All triumphant blasts of sound

Lift you at one rhythmic bound

From the thraldom of the ground.

All the sweetness which the glowing

Violets waft to west winds blowing,

All the burning love-notes aching,

Rills and thrills of rapture shaking

Through the hearts that throb to breaking

Of the little nightingales;

Mellow murmuring waters streaming

Lakeward in long silver trails,

Crooning low while earth lies dreaming

 Prev. P 48/155 next