Born of sunny showers,
(Think, whene’er you see us, what our beauty saith;)
Utterance, mute and bright,
Of some unknown delight,
We fill the air with pleasure, by our simple breath:
All who see us love us—
We befit all places:
Unto sorrow we give smiles—and unto graces, races
Mark our ways, how noiseless
All, and sweetly voiceless,