HERE sways the willow As the wind drifts by And fields long fallow Lie fertile under this warm sky. The thrust of young things spreads Green through the hollow And on the slopes appear the heads Of grain soft days will mellow. Break out in sudden song, swift bird Above this stillness: Sing out the canticle of new life stirred From winter chillness; Be living voice for silent life Here where the sun has taken fecund earth to wife! |