In Joyous Faith 



In Joyous Faith 



In joyous faith, from mountain top and vale, 



Hark, hark, they come — the myriad birds of 

 spring ! 

 Swift as an arrow, at the Master's call 



They pierce the frozen air with steady wing, 

 And laugh to shame the winter winds that rail 



Against the precious promises they bring. 

 They wake the lonesome wood with sound of song; 



They stir the drowsy violets with mirth, 

 And send a thrill of gladness into all 



The dark and mournful silences of earth; 

 Until at last, a sweet, exultant throng. 



They swell the triumph of perennial birth. 



Oh, wondrous miracle of victory! 



In joyous faith they win — and so may we. 



[33 



