A White-Throat Sings

FROM ancient Edens long forgot
He felt a breath of spring,
And in the leafless apple tree
He heard a white-throat sing.
With fluted triplets, clear and sweet,
The bird proclaimed its joy,
And on the withered orchard grass
The man became a boy:
A boy who ran, a boy who dreamed,
In April sun and rain;
Who knew all good was happiness,
All evil only pain.
Sing on, O white-throat in the tree,
He does not hear you now!
The years are trampling on his heart
And armies o’er his brow.
From ancient Edens long forgot
No resurrection comes
Until the smallest sparrow’s song
Is louder than the drums!