Then sing, ye Birds, sing, sing a joyous song!
And let the young Lambs bound
As to the tabor’s sound! 170
We in thought will join your throng,
Ye that pipe and ye that play,
Ye that through your hearts to-day
Feel the gladness of the May!
What though the radiance which was once so bright 175
Be now for ever taken from my sight,
Though nothing can bring back the hour