- One of my favorite pieces.
- He rises and begins to round,
- He drops the silver chain of sound,
- Of many links without a break,
- In chirrup, whistle, slur and shake.
- For singing till his heaven fills,
- ‘Tis love of earth that he instils,
- And ever winging up and up,
- Our valley is his golden cup
- And he the wine which overflows
- to lift us with him as he goes.
- Till lost on his aerial rings
- In light, and then the fancy sings
- 30 May 2015
- Ember Saturday
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