Thursday, May 31, 2007


While hiking through the glen one morn
When spring was at its best,
I paused beneath a leafy bower
To sit awhile and rest.

O'er head the sky was azure blue,
Below, the earth was green;
White fleecy clouds were floating through
The stratosphere between.

I heard the twittering of the birds,
Their's was the only sound;
As quiet as a sanctuary,
It seemed like hallowed ground.

I called aloud, I know not why,
"A lovely day" I cried,
"A lovely day" came the reply
Back from the steep hillside.

'Twas a reflection of my voice,
Echoes are just a sound,
But it's more pleasant to the ear
When cheerful words rebound.

February, 1949

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