Xlviii

Don’t wonder, shouldst Thou chance to hear Birds sing of Thy love’s wooing; They called once at my window sill To see what I was doing.

And they again came and again And soon taught me to love them, For I am free just as they are And am just like one of them.

I sang them many songs of Thee That in sweet love abounded, And they soon tuned their throats to them Till in their songs love sounded.

The other day I called on them In their woods and nooks shady And was surprised to find the birds To sing my songs already.