Songs of spirit, like a prayer
Breathing in the ambient air;
Singing in the morning light,
In the radiance of the day,

In the twilight shadows gray,
In the brooding hush of night;
Dark or light, or storm, or fair —
Singing, singing everywhere.

In the burgeoning of spring,
In the summer’s scented bloom,
In the autumn’s mellow glow,
In the winter’s ice and snow;

Shade, or shine, or joy, or gloom,
As the seasons come and go,
Bleak and bare, or blossoming —
Still the songs that sing and sing!

Singing, singing everywhere,
At the heart of everything;
In my soul I hear them sing;
Mystic music of the spheres;

Songs that, with my utmost art,
I can only catch in part;
Broken echoes, cold and bare,
Of the songs my spirit hears.
