SUNRISE IN THE FOREST

THE zephyrs of morning are stirring the larches,
And, lazily lifting, the mist rolls away.
A paean of praise thro’ the dim forest arches
Is ringing, to welcome the advent of day.
Is loftily ringing,
Exultingly ringing,
From the height where a little brown songster is clinging,
The top of a hemlock, the uttermost spray.