The clear bright morning, with its scented air <br />And gaily waving flowers, is here again; <br />Man's heart is lifted with the voice of prayer, <br />And peace descends, as falls the gentle rain; <br />The tuneful birds, that all the night have slept, <br />Take up at dawn the evening's dying lay, <br />When sleep upon their eyelids gently crept <br />And stole with stealthy craft their song away. <br />High overhead the forest's swaying boughs <br />Sprinkle with drops the traveler on his way; <br />He hears far off the tinkling bells of cows <br />Driven to pasture at the break of day; <br />With vigorous step he passes swift along, <br />Making the woods reecho with his song.<br /><br />Jones Very<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-fair-morning/
