The Bird’s Song, the Sun, and the Wind

The bird’s song, the sun, and the wind--
The wind that rushes, the sun that is still,
The song of the bird that sings alone,
And wide light washing the lonely hill!

The Spring’s coming, the buds and the brooks--
The brooks that clamour, the buds in the rain,
The coming of Spring that comes unprayed for,
And eyes that welcome it not for pain!