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Myth and Romance
There is no rhyme that is half so sweet
As the song of the wind in the rippling wheat;
There is no metre that\'s half so fine
As the lilt of the brook under rock and vine;
And the loveliest lyric I ever heard
Was the wildwood strain of a forest bird.--
If the wind and the brook and the bird would teach
My heart their beautiful parts of speech.
There is no rhyme that is half so sweet
As the song of the wind in the rippling wheat;
There is no metre that\'s half so fine
As the lilt of the brook under rock and vine;
And the loveliest lyric I ever heard
Was the wildwood strain of a forest bird.--
If the wind and the brook and the bird would teach
My heart their beautiful parts of speech.
