William Griffith

(1876-1936 / United States)

Spring Song

Softly at dawn a whisper stole
   Down from the Green House on the Hill,
Enchanting many a ghostly bole
   And wood-song with the ancient thrill.

Gossiping on the country-side,
   Spring and the wandering breezes say,
God has thrown Heaven open wide
   And let the thrushes out to-day.

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