Hope for Thrush
Comes the morning
from brambled hedge, or garden wall.
Sing he must, and sing he will,
though even to a silent hill.
Be there but echoes all along,
he forgets the day, but not his song.
Comes the morning
from brambled hedge, or garden wall.
Sing he must, and sing he will,
though even to a silent hill.
Be there but echoes all along,
he forgets the day, but not his song.