Young laughters, and my music! Aye till now <br />The voice can reach no blending minors near; <br />'Tis the bird's trill because the spring is here <br />And spring means trilling on a blossomy bough; <br />'Tis the spring joy that has no why or how, <br />But sees the sun and hopes not nor can fear-- <br />Spring is so sweet and spring seems all the year. <br />Dear voice, the first-come birds but trill as thou. <br /> <br />Oh music of my heart, be thus for long: <br />Too soon the spring bird learns the later song; <br />Too soon a sadder sweetness slays content <br />Too soon! There comes new light on onward day, <br />There comes new perfume o'er a rosier way: <br />Comes not again the young spring joy that went.<br /><br />Augusta Davies Webster<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/young-laughters-and-my-music/
