A song welled up in the singer's heart,
(Like song in the throat of a bird, )
And loud he sang, and far it rang, --
For his heart was strangely stirred;
And he sang for the very joy of song,
With no thought of one who heard. Within the listener's wayward soul
A heavenly patience grew.
He fared on his way with a benison
ON the singer, who never knew
How the careless song of an idle hour
Had shaped a life anew.