388 GRAY LADY AND THE BIRDS 
BIRDS IN SPRING 
What time the rose of dawn is laid across the lips of night, 
And all the drowsy little stars have fallen asleep in light, 
’Tis then a wandering wind awakes, and runs from tree to tree, 
And borrows words from all the birds to sound the reveille. 
This is the carol the Robin throws 
Over the edge of the valley; 
Listen how boldly it flows, 
Sally on sally: 
Tirra-lirra, down the river, 
Laughing water all a-quiver. 
Day is near, clear, clear. 
Fish are breaking, 
Time for waking. 
Tup, tup, tup! 
Do you hear? All clear. 
Wake up! 
The phantom flood of dreams has ebbed and vanished with the 
dark, 
And like a dove the heart forsakes the prison of the ark; 
Now forth she fares through friendly woods and diamond-fields 
of dew, 
While every voice cries out ‘‘ Rejoice!” as if the world were new. 
This is the ballad the Bluebird sings, 
Unto his mate replying, 
Shaking the tune from his wings 
While he is flying: 
Surely, surely, surely, 
Ife is dear 
Even here. 
Blue above, 
You to love, 
Purely, purely, purely. 
