In Blossom Time

IT’S O my heart, my heart,

To be out in the sun and sing—

To sing and shout in the fields about,

In the balm and the blossoming!

Sing loud, O bird in the tree;

O bird, sing loud in the sky,

And honey-bees, blacken the clover beds—

There is none of you glad as I.

The leaves laugh low in the wind,

Laugh low, with the wind at play;

And the odorous call of the flowers all

Entices my soul away!

For O but the world is fair, is fair—

And O but the world is sweet!

I will out in the gold of the blossoming mould,

And sit at the Master’s feet.

And the love my heart would speak,

I will fold in the lily’s rim,

That th’ lips of the blossom, more pure and meek,

May offer it up to Him.

Then sing in the hedgerow green, O thrush,

O skylark, sing in the blue;

Sing loud, sing clear, that the King may hear,

And my soul shall sing with you!