Come, my soul, let us haste to the open; Away from the jangle and soil Of the dead winter's left-over rubbish, Outworn garments and futile toil. Come out to the freshly plowed fields, Open-armed to God's renascent light, Where new things can grow and flower; Where thought like the birds has flight. Oh come, let us hail the awakening And breathe in the world's newest spring; Slip away from old walled-in repressions; Come, live and laugh, work and sing. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A HYMN TO CONTENTMENT by THOMAS PARNELL SONG OF THE PILGRIMS [SEPTEMBER 16, 1620] by THOMAS COGSWELL UPHAM INVOCATION TO SLEEP by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH OUR DAILY BREAD by MALTBIE DAVENPORT BABCOCK |