 | Edwin Markham - 1899 - 148 oldal
...glint of dew upon the ground, Without a sound He drops into a valley and is gone! Joy of the Morning I hear you, little bird, Shouting aswing above the...beyond the wildest word : I'd tell it, too, if I could. Oft when the white, still dawn Lifted the skies and pushed the hills apart, I've felt it like a glory... | |
 | Edwin Markham - 1900 - 146 oldal
...glint of dew upon the ground, Without a sound He drops into a valley and is gone ! Joy of the MorningI hear you, little bird, Shouting aswing above the broken...beyond the wildest word: I'd tell it, too, if I could. Oft when the white, still dawn Lifted the skies and pushed the hills apart, I've felt it like a glory... | |
 | Edmund Clarence Stedman - 1900 - 966 oldal
...near, the haven's sheltering line, Up the long sea-curve rides its stately form. JOY OF THE MORNING I HEAR you, little bird, Shouting a-swing above the...still wood: 'Tis wonderful beyond the wildest word; I 'd tell it, too, if I could. Oft when the white still dawn Lifted the skies and pushed the hills... | |
 | Edmund Clarence Stedman - 1900 - 954 oldal
...nly point the way, and they must go e whirlwind road of song if they would know. JOY OF THE MORNING I hear you, little bird, Shouting a-swing above the...deep, still wood: 'Tis wonderful beyond the wildest wordî I 'd tell it, too, if I could. Oft when the white still dawn Lifted the skies and pushed the... | |
 | Jean Sherwood Rankin - 1902 - 254 oldal
...publishers, Small, Maynard & Company. JOY OF THE MORNING * I hear you, little bird, Shouting a-swiug above the broken wall. Shout louder yet: no song can...beyond the wildest word: I'd tell it, too, if I could. Oft when the white, still dawn Lifted the skies and pushed the hills apart, I've felt it like a glory... | |
 | Samuel Silas Curry - 1913 - 328 oldal
...feeling; and feeling is the main thing, for the poet is moved by his own emotion. JOY OF THE MORNING I hear you, little bird, Shouting a-swing above the...louder yet: no song can tell it all. Sing to my soul hi the deep, still wood: 'Tis wonderful beyond the wildest word: I 'd tell it, too, if I could. Oft... | |
 | Jessie Belle Rittenhouse - 1915 - 348 oldal
...weary, I fain would hear, before I go, the wood-notes of the veery. Henry van Dyke. JOY OF THE MORNING I hear you, little bird, Shouting a-swing above the...still wood: 'Tis wonderful beyond the wildest word: I 'd tell it, too, if I could. Oft when the white still dawn Lifted the skies and pushed the hills... | |
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I hear you, little bird, Shouting a-swing above the broken wall. Shout louder yet, no song can tell it all. Sing to my soul in the deep, still wood: 'Tis wonderful beyond the wildest word: I'd tell it too if I could. 