A bird is of all beings

A bird is of all beings
The likest to the dawn,
An easy breeze does put afloat
The general Heavens upon.

It soars and shifts and whirls
And measures with the clouds
In easy, ever dazzling pace,
No different the birds—

Except a wake of music
Accompany their feet,
As should the Dawn emit a tune
For ecstasy of it.