Classic Poem

Today there's singing on my lips
(And more if one should ask).
Today I kiss my finger-tips
And curtsy to my task.
My heart's a butterfly today,
The world a garden blows,
With every wind a roundelay
And every hour a rose.

My soul is vagabond today,
A gypsy on the grass
Who dances by the King's highway
Where solemn coaches pass.
Angels of joy whom joy must please,
Today my heart hath wings,
And 'neath your golden balconies
A mirth-mad Pierrot sings.