Joy Of The Morning

"And I say, Oh, that I had wings like a dove!

I would fly away and be at rest.

Yes, I would wander far away, I would

lodge in the wilderness!

Selah pause, and calmly think of that!

I would hasten to escape and to find shelter

from the stormy wind and tempest."

Psalm 55:6-8

Mourning Dove

I hear you, little bird,

Shouting a-swing above the broken wall.

Shout louder yet: no song can tell it all.

Sing to my soul in the deep, still wood:

'Tis wonderful beyond the wildest word:

I'd tell it, too, if I could.

Oft when the white, still dawn

Lifted the skies and pushed the hills apart,

I've felt it like a glory in my heart-

(The world's mysterious stir)

But had no throat like yours, my bird,

Nor such a listener.

American Goldfinch

State Bird of New Jersey

Joy Of The Morning

A poem by Edwin Markham