In the Village of Viger

by Duncan Campbell Scott

Robins and bobolinks bubbling and tinkling,

Shore-larks alive there high in the blue,

Level in the sunlight the rye-field twinkling,

The wind parts the cloud and a star leaps through,

Ferns at the spring-head curling cool and tender,

Bloodroot in the tangle, violets by the larch,

In the dusky evening the young moon slender,

Glowing like a crocus in the dells of March;

All a world of music, of laughter, and of lightness,

Crushed to a diamond, rounded to a pearl,