Silence 'tis Awe Decrees.

But Facts Are Facts And Flinch Not.

That's The Wise Thrush; He Sings Each Song Twice Over, Lest You Should Think He Never Could Recapture The First Fine Careless Rapture!

The Past Is Gained, Secure, And On Record.

The Body Sprang At Once To The Height, And Stayed; But The Soul,-no!

Oh, To Be In England Now That April's There, And Whoever Wakes In England Sees, Some Morning, Unaware.