Wood nymphs voicing soothing rhymes
Stirring all the sun-filled air
With hymns of praise and love and prayer.
Tell me whence their motive power,
Tell me whence so rich a dower,
Tell me why are birds so gifted;
Whence their imprisoned spirits drifted;
Whither swells this tide of love
Flooding all the air above?
Whither these enchantments tend?