The world is very fair to me--
Such azure skies, such golden weather,
I'm like a long caged bird set free,
My heart is lighter than a feather.
I rise rejoicing in my life;
I live with love for God and neighbor;
My days flow on unmarred by strife,
And sweetened by my pleasant labor.
Oh youth! oh spring! oh happy days,
Ye are so passing sweet, and tender,
And while the fleeting season stays,
I'll revel care-free, in its splendor.
[BIRD OF HOPE.]
Soar not too high, oh bird of Hope!
Because the skies are fair;
The tempest may come on apace
And overcome thee there.
When far above the mountain tops
Thou soarest, over all--
If, then, the storm should press thee back,
How great would be thy fall!
And thou would'st lie here at my feet,
A poor and lifeless thing,--
A torn and bleeding birdling,
With a limp and broken wing.
Sing not too loud, oh bird of Hope!
Because the day is bright;
The sunshine cannot always last--
The morn precedes the night.
And if thy song is of the day,
Then when the day grows dim,
Forlorn and voiceless thou wouldst sit
Among the shadows grim.
Oh! I would have thee soar and sing,
But not too high, or loud,
Remembering that day meets night
The brilliant sun the cloud.