Verses (Baughan)/Spring’s Chorister
SPRING’S CHORISTER
Spring sang a song, and sang it me
Right glad was I to hear it!
It set my heart from chillness free,
And gloriously did cheer it.
Then said sweet Spring
To me, “Now sing
An answer, shall come near it.”
Therewith I did a song essay,
Brimming with blithest gladness,
But ah! my voice (alackaday!)
Still echoed Winter’s sadness;
Well might I try—
Came never nigh
That song’s bewitching madness.
Then as against a tree I leant,
And o’er my song was sighing,
Came to me for my solacement
Some pretty bird a-flying;
Flew round and round
Above the ground
Where yet the snow was lying:
Flew in and out the branches bare,
Whose arms kind Spring was filling
With baby sunbeams: everywhere
Flew, flitted, flutter’d, trilling
Out of his throat
A little note,
That thro’ my heart went thrilling,
Till, looking up, “O Spring!” I said,
“Mute must I stand, confessing
My human dulness. Take, instead
Of mine, this singer’s blessing—
In lightsome flight,
And song’s delight,
Thy very self expressing!”