EVENING, and all the birds
In a chorus of shimmering sound
Are easing their hearts of joy
For miles around.
The air is blue and sweet,
The few first stars are white,--
Oh let me like the birds
Sing before night.
Sara Teasdale
In a chorus of shimmering sound
Are easing their hearts of joy
For miles around.
The air is blue and sweet,
The few first stars are white,--
Oh let me like the birds
Sing before night.
Sara Teasdale