HAPPY SINGING
Reading edition
Men have made songs, And I among them, Because some hell Of grief had wrung them. The tolling bell Will often bring Torture to force A man to sing. But I this day A song will make Only for joy And my sweet love’s sake: And will employ No sorrowful thing For making of it,— That song, I’ll sing. But lovely laughter Of singing thrushes When dawn has broken And heaven flushes, Shall be the token Of one whom days Nor death can rob Of joyous praise.