SONG
Reading edition
And in the evening when I walked apart For joy of that I carry in my heart, The song I made brave thrushes did complete, Shouting, “O, pretty Joy!” and “Sweet! Sweet! Sweet!” This is my glory, this the crown of me: That I hold joy of my love, and she of me; And though my song be but a breath of air, Yet is it greater than death and all despair. For howso poor and of what base estate I be, this love shall make me proud and great. And howso deep in care I lie, there are words Shall build my heart a nest of singing birds.