large/7359/selections_gems_poetry_girls_boys_1807_librivox_64kb_mp3/gemsofpoetry_03_unknown_64kb_3
large/7359/selections_gems_poetry_girls_boys_1807_librivox_64kb_mp3/gemsofpoetry_03_unknown_64kb
English
7359
the little birds, That sing about your door, soon as the joyous spring has come, And chilling storms are o'er. THE LITTLE BIRDS THAT SING ABOUT YOUR DOOR AS SOON AS THE JOYOUS SPRING HAS COME AND CHILLING STORMS ARE OVER
valleys and rocks never heard, Ne'er sighed at the sound of a knell, Or smiled when a Sabbath appeared. Ye winds, that have made me your sport, Convey to this desolate shore Some cordial endearing report, Of a land I shall visit no more. My friends, do they now and then send A wish or a thought after me? O tell me I yet have a friend, Though a friend I am never to see. [Illustration] How fleet is a glance of the mind! Compared with the speed of its flight, The tempest itself lags behind, And the swift-winged arrows of light. When I think of my own native land, In a moment I seem to be there; But, alas! recollection, at hand, Soon hurries me back to despair. But the sea-fowl is gone to her nest. The beast is laid down in his lair, Even here is a season of rest, And I to my cabin repair. There is mercy in every place; And mercy, encouraging thought! Gives even affliction a grace, And reconciles man to his lot. [Illustration] DON'T KILL THE BIRDS. [Illustration: D] Don't kill the birds!--  POEM NUMBER THREE OF JEMSAM OF POETRY FOR GIRLS AND BOYS BY UNKNOWN THIS LIVER BOX RECORDING IT'S IN THE PUBLIC DOMAIN POEM NUMBER THREE DON'T KILL THE BIRDS DON'T KILL THE BIRDS
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