Classic Poem

Hark to the bird's voice chirping, glad in the heart of Nature;
See where the twinkling waters gaily run;
Hear how the Earth is stirring with the first voice of the living,
See how the Earth is brightening with the Sun.
This morn was white with frost, but the heavens above were azure:
The ground was hard, but all was awake with hope.
Misty the morning air, but it added a charm to the country
And hid the vales in a dusky haze from the slope.
The supple pines are swaying, the woods are a-rustle with vigour
And the grey clouds of the winter roll away.
The herds are lowing their gladness, and all is a happy madness
Think not upon to-morrow but to-day.