To Nature's ear there comes at eventide
A symphony of living souls. "Tis then
That man, and bird, and flower thrill with song
So soft and clear. "Tis then this old world waits
In glory just to send her praise anew.
The wind in the trees, the Earth's great organ trembles,
While birds to its accompaniment all sing
The songs that fill man's heart with ecstasy.
And, softly, from beneath the trees, the brook
With tender voice, bids all the work, "Good-night"
Ah, Harken! Do you hear it from afar---
The evening music of God's Universe?
There's not a bit of butter
In a single butter cup.
Do you suppose the fairies
Ate the butter up?
