The birds are building in the budding trees And making music wonderfully sweet To me as I pass down the village street, Stirred by innumerable memories Of other days as beautiful as these. The pansies lift their lovely eyes to meet The glad smile of the summer sun, and greet Me with a fragrant whisper in the breeze. Into the garden of my heart I stray And there I find the flowers of yesterday, The sunlight of the summer and the past, -- Remembered voices sing to me of love, As from the heaven glorious above, And I, enraptured, answer them at last. |