Page:Poems and ballads, third series (IA poemsballadsthir00swin).pdf/103

 Sorrow dies for love's sake, Love grows one with mirth, Even for one white dove's sake, Born a babe on earth.

Baby-bird, baby-bird, Chirping loud and long, Other birds hush their words, Hearkening toward your song.

Sweet as spring though it ring, Full of love's own lures, Weak and wrong sounds their song, Singing after yours.

Baby-bird, baby-bird, The happy heart that hears Seems to win back within Heaven, and cast out fears.