THE BIRDS OF SPRING

The birds of spring are here at last,
And their melodies ring clear;
Through clearings bright and the woods they cast
Their songs that cheer the year.

The oriole from its swinging nest
Sings brightly in the tree;
The warblers spin a rare request,
In droplets pure and free.

From bough to bough, from tree to ground
They lift their songs like flight—
The heart from the slow and shady round
Is lifted up to light.

• Bliss Carman