THE birds are singing, though it is not morn,
Though in the east no rays of glory shine:
Made clear by hope, their eyes and hearts divine
That in the dusky twilight, day is born.
Trusting they carol, though the heavens warn
Their fearless joy with many a threatening sign;
Though, still untinged with gold, the clouds combine,
While moans the rain-fraught wind, a voice forlorn.
Yes, wake me with your warbling, happy birds,
That I may feel, before I see, the day;
That I may muse of hope, while in my heart
The notes translate themselves in gladsome words:
E’en plashing rain-drops mingle with your lay,
And in its harmony the wind has part.
(Constance Naden)
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Based on Topics: Hope Poems, Happiness Poems, Success Poems, Gold Poems, Birds Poems, Sign & Symbol Poems, Singing PoemsBased on Keywords: rain-drops, plashing, untinged