Classic Poem

They call me, — they call me, from meadow and grove;
They sing to me sweetly of hope and of love;
And dove-like and peacefully, over
My pillow they hover.

And they say to me kindly: " O, hasten away!
No longer in dreamy oblivion stay; —
Young life with its bloom is before thee,
And heaven is o'er thee.

" O'er valley and mountain, in beauty and light,
The world stretches onward, so dewy and bright;
The roses are budding beside thee; —
What joy shall betide thee!

" The day has awakened, so fresh and so fair;
The clouds float aloft in the warm summer air;
All nature is swelling with gladness; —
O, sink not in sadness. "

I hear ye, — I hear ye, — I will not delay,
But up, and o'er valley and mountain away; —
Through life, like a bird, I will hie me; —
Hope never shall fly me.