I hear the birds of morning sing
Their song to mark the end of night,
And soon, they'll rise up on the wing,
And sun will cheer them with its light.
Their singing swells, begins to soar,
The music blends and it promotes
Sweet harmonies in close rapport,
A love song from a thousand throats.
The lambent earth approves their song,
Reverberant throughout the day;
As flowers bloom and days grow long,
She celebrates the joys of May.
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