There is music in the woodlands
When the birds their carols sing,
As they flit about the old oaks
Where the ivy tendrils cling. Warblers, orioles and linnets,
Blue-birds with their brilliant hue;
While the sky-lark sings his sonnet
In the sky's ethereal blue. Oh! Is any of the music
That the listening ear has heard
Half so pure and sweet and lovely
As the singing of a bird? There is music in the meadows
At the closing of the day,
When the gentle cows are coming
Slowly, on their homeward way. Drinking from the singing brooklet,
Cropping clover in the dells;
Listen! Is not this sweet music,
Murmuring stream and tinkling bells? There is music in the forest,
In the rustling of the trees,
In the chattering of the squirrels,
In the humming of the bees. Hark! The tall pine-trees are singing,
Wailing forth their requiem, low;
While the chipmunks clamber briskly
O'er the mossy logs below. There is music on the sea shore,
Of the little waves at play;
While the stately ships are sailing
O'er the waters far away. Wavelets o'er the rocks are dashing.
Say, can any music be
Sweeter than the waves' commotion
Or the singing of the sea? There is music in the rain-drops
Pattering forth their soft refrain,
Dancing, spattering on the shingles,
Coursing down the window-pane. Strange, weird music, what could better
The fond dreamer's thought inspire,
Listening to the tiny voices
Of the storm-king's raindrop choir? There is music in the chiming
Of the solemn Sabbath bells,
Ringing forth to all a welcome
Over hills and vales and dells, Calling to the house of worship,
Telling us the worth of time,
Praising God for all His goodness;
Hear the distant church bells chime! There is music in the voices
Of the children at their play,
Bird-like songs and rippling laughter
From the dawn 'till twilight gray. Is there any earthly music
That is half so pure and sweet,
As the children's merry voices
Or the pattering of their feet? There is music in the voices
Of the loved ones at our side,
Those who tread life's pathway with us
And who in our homes abide. Sweetest music, yet how often
In life's busy bustling day,
We forget to prize the singers
'Till their songs have died away. Let us gather up earth's glories,
Let us not refuse to hear
The sweet sounds that cheer our pathway,
Without which, earth would be drear. Let us listen to the music,
Treasure it within the soul;
It will make us wiser, better,
While the months and years roll. Let us notice Heaven's blessings,
Thanking God for what we share;
If we will but pause to listen
There is music everywhere.