I love the sound of Nature's happy voice, The music of a summer evening's sky, When all things fair and beautiful rejoice, As though their glory ne'er would fade and die. Sweet is the breeze as 'mid the flowers it sings, Sweet is the melody of falling streams, Sweet is the sky-lark's song as borne on wings Of waving light—a bird of heaven she seems. Oh! for the hours, when wrapt in joy I've sat, And felt that harmony—"all round my hat!" Sigma. |