Park Benjamin (1809–1864)

THE BIRDS sing cheerily, the streamlets shout

As if in echo; tones are all around:

The air is filled with one pervading sound

Of merriment. Bright creatures flit about;

Slight spears of emerald glitter from the ground,

And frequent flowers, like helms of bloom, are found;

And, from the invisible army of fair things,

Floats a low murmur like a distant sea!

I hear the clarions of the insect-kings

Marshal their busy cohorts on the lea.

Life, life in action,—’t is all music, all,

From the enlivening cry of children free

To the swift dash of waters as they fall,

Released by thee, O Spring, to glad, wild liberty!