 | Carol and Cadence |  |
THE THRUSH.
The thrush sings loud
In the rosy cloud
Of the blossoming apple-tree;
The tireless story
Of April's glory
He tells for you and me.
In the rosy cloud
Of the blossoming apple-tree;
The tireless story
Of April's glory
He tells for you and me.
47
Was ever a song
So sweet and strong
To do away annoy?
My old eyes glisten,
As here I listen,
With tears of love and joy.
So sweet and strong
To do away annoy?
My old eyes glisten,
As here I listen,
With tears of love and joy.
In April's time
Of love and rhyme,
There is no God but Spring;
And thou, o throstle,
Art His apostle.
Heav'n strengthen thee to sing!
Of love and rhyme,
There is no God but Spring;
And thou, o throstle,
Art His apostle.
Heav'n strengthen thee to sing!
| Carol and Cadence | |