The first glad token of the Spring is here That bears each time one miracle the more, For in the sunlight is the golden ore, The joyous promise of a waking year; And in that promise all clouds disappear And youth itself comes back as once before, For only dreams are real in April's store When buds are bursting and the skies are clear. Fair Season! at your touch the sleeping land Quickens to rapture, and a rosy flame Is the old signal of awakening; Thus in a mystery I understand The deepest meaning of your lovely name -- How it will be in that perpetual Spring! III The Garden Behind the pinions of the Seraphim, Whose wings flame out upon the swinging spheres, There is a Voice that speaks the numbered years Until that Day when all comes back to Him; Behind the faces of the Cherubim, Whose smiles of love are seen through broken tears, There is a Face that every creature fears, The Face of Love no veil may ever dim. O Angels of Glad Laughter and of Song, Your voices sound so near, the little wall Can scarcely hide the trees that bend and nod; Unbar the gate, for you have waited long To show the Garden that was made for all, -- Where all is safe beneath the Smile of God. IV The Path of the Stars Down through the spheres that chant the Name of One Who is the Law of Beauty and of Light He came, and as He came the waiting Night Shook with the gladness of a Day begun; And as He came, He said: Thy Will Be Done On Earth; and all His vibrant Words were white And glistering with silver, and their might Was of the glory of a rising sun. Unto the Stars sang out His Living Words White and with silver, and their rhythmic sound Was as a mighty symphony unfurled; And back from out the Stars like homing birds They fell in love upon the sleeping ground And were forever in a wakened world. Chanson of the Bells of Oseney. [Cale Young Rice] Thirteenth Century The bells of Oseney (Hautclere, Doucement, Austyn) Chant sweetly every day, And sadly, for our sin. The bells of Oseney (John, Gabriel, Marie) Chant lowly, Chant slowly, Chant wistfully and holy Of Christ, our Paladin. Hautclere chants to the East (His tongue is silvery high), And Austyn like a priest Sends west a weighty cry. But Doucement set between (Like an appeasive nun) Chants cheerly, Chants clearly, As if Christ heard her nearly, A plea to every sky. A plea that John takes up (He is the evangelist) Till Gabriel's angel cup Pours sound to sun or mist. And last of all Marie (The virgin-voice of God) Peals purely, Demurely, And with a tone so surely Divine, that all must hear. The bells of Oseney (Doucement, Austyn, Hautclere) Pour ever day by day Their peals on the rapt air; And with their mellow mates (John, Gabriel, Marie) Tell slowly, Tell lowly, Of Christ the High and Holy, Who makes the whole world fair. Poets. [Joyce Kilmer]