 | Country muse |  |
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MY CONTENT
What's my content?
I love the bird, I love the blue
That deepens in the firmament,
The grass to mate them, and the hush
Before the warble of the thrush:
At morn and evening from the brake
All sweet-throat minstrels choicely make
A rare content.
I love the bird, I love the blue
That deepens in the firmament,
The grass to mate them, and the hush
Before the warble of the thrush:
At morn and evening from the brake
All sweet-throat minstrels choicely make
A rare content.
How God is good!—
He lends the song, He lends the sky!
And O, my heart has understood
The spider's fragile line of lace,
The common weed, the woody space!
These miracles that bring me bliss,
And one sweet English girl to kiss,
Make my content.
He lends the song, He lends the sky!
And O, my heart has understood
The spider's fragile line of lace,
100
These miracles that bring me bliss,
And one sweet English girl to kiss,
Make my content.
| Country muse | |