Nor time will ever be when thy glad stars
Will cease to sing as one in rhythmic bars;
Nor conscious sons of God go shouting joy;
Nor woodland birds of song their loved employ.
It’s in the very heart of things;
It’s in our bounds and sweeps and swings;
It’s in the tree and rose that springs—
All Nature sings—— and—— sings.
The heart of man, his coursing blood through veins;
The very breath of life, his thoughts and reins;