The Voices of Spring


There's the voices of Spring
Can we know them again
The lark's on the wing
And the bee's on the plain
The same sort of voices around and below
As we heard in the meadows ago.


There's a chirp in the hedge
Where the primroses grow
There's a song in the sedge
Where the grasshoppers go
The hedge sparrow there has her dwelling begun
And the spider is spinning his home in the sun.


There's a hum in the air
Theres a song in the rain
All these features so rare
Shall we know them again
The pilewort and daisy are on the green bank; —
Hid by the dead grass tuft's all withered and rank.


These are those lost voices
That love cherished so
Those sweetest of choices
Ten summer's ago
On the ear of my fancy they come in the spring
In the songs of the birds, and the brooks when they sing.


Loves favours I see them
In springs early flowers
These were my day dreams then
In summers green hours
And in fancy those faces they seem now to glow
With the same lovely features, as ten summers ago.
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