I awakened to music the sweetest of all.
The flutelike peals of the Thrush of the wood
Still bound me to the world of angelhood.
But the depths of my soul had the holiest hush,
As the organ note rose of the Hermit Thrush.
He climbed to the heights where I too would arise,
But no one may soar with that pride of the skies.
I then asked my heart, “Pray, what is all this?
Why experience birds such wonderful bliss?”
My soul was on fire,