WHEN loud by landside streamlets gush, <br />And clear in the greenwood quires the thrush, <br />With sun on the meadows <br />And songs in the shadows <br />Comes again to me <br />The gift of the tongues of the lea, <br />The gift of the tongues of meadows. <br /> <br />Straightway my olden heart returns <br />And dances with the dancing burns; <br />It sings with the sparrows; <br />To the rain and the (grimy) barrows <br />Sings my heart aloud - <br />To the silver-bellied cloud, <br />To the silver rainy arrows. <br /> <br />It bears the song of the skylark down, <br />And it hears the singing of the town; <br />And youth on the highways <br />And lovers in byways <br />Follows and sees: <br />And hearkens the song of the leas <br />And sings the songs of the highways. <br /> <br />So when the earth is alive with gods, <br />And the lusty ploughman breaks the sod, <br />And the grass sings in the meadows, <br />And the flowers smile in the shadows, <br />Sits my heart at ease, <br />Hearing the song of the leas, <br />Singing the songs of the meadows.<br /><br />Robert Louis Stevenson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/spring-carol/
