 | The poems of Celia Thaxter |  |
105
SONG
Sing, little bird, oh sing!
How sweet thy voice and clear!
How fine the airy measures ring,
The sad old world to cheer!
How sweet thy voice and clear!
How fine the airy measures ring,
The sad old world to cheer!
Bloom, little flower, oh bloom!
Thou makest glad the day;
A scented torch, thou dost illume
The darkness of the way.
Thou makest glad the day;
A scented torch, thou dost illume
The darkness of the way.
Dance, little child, oh dance!
While sweet the small birds sing,
And flowers bloom fair, and every glance
Of sunshine tells of spring.
While sweet the small birds sing,
And flowers bloom fair, and every glance
Of sunshine tells of spring.
Oh! bloom, and sing, and smile,
Child, bird, and flower, and make
The sad old world forget awhile
Its sorrow for your sake!
Child, bird, and flower, and make
The sad old world forget awhile
Its sorrow for your sake!
| The poems of Celia Thaxter | |