Song
A KNITTER in the sun is one
Who weaves the tangled threads of thought
Into a perfect robe of rhyme,
Who blends the multi-colored words
To one harmonious whole;
And then if he hath wisely wrought,
And garnered in the fields of thyme,
Hath caught the carol of the birds
To echo ever in his soul, —
O joy unspeakable for one,
Who is a knitter in the sun.
Who weaves the tangled threads of thought
Into a perfect robe of rhyme,
Who blends the multi-colored words
To one harmonious whole;
And then if he hath wisely wrought,
And garnered in the fields of thyme,
Hath caught the carol of the birds
To echo ever in his soul, —
O joy unspeakable for one,
Who is a knitter in the sun.
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