Christina G. Rossetti

Hark! that's the nightingale,
Telling the self-same tale
Her song told when this ancient earth was young:
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Hark! that's the nightingale,
Telling the self-same tale
Her song told when this ancient earth was young:
So echoes answered when her song was sung
In the first wooded vale.

One by one the flowers close,
Lily and dewy rose
Shutting their tender petals from the moon.

One by one the flowers close,
Lily and dewy rose
Shutting their tender petals from the moon.

Somewhere or other there must surely be
The face not seen, the voice not heard,
The heart read more

Somewhere or other there must surely be
The face not seen, the voice not heard,
The heart that not yet--never yet--ah me!
Made answer to my word.

O happy skylark springing
Up to the broad, blue sky,
Too fearless in thy winging,
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O happy skylark springing
Up to the broad, blue sky,
Too fearless in thy winging,
Too gladsome in thy singing,
Thou also soon shalt lie
Where no sweet notes are ringing.

It's surely summer. for there's a swallow:
Come one swallow, his mate will follow,
The bird race read more

It's surely summer. for there's a swallow:
Come one swallow, his mate will follow,
The bird race quicken and wheel and thicken.