Show THE SONG OF THE THRUSH Catholic Standard And Times Ah the May was grand this morn mornin In how could I feel itel forlorn In Such a land when tree and flower tossed tONed their kisses kis es to the breeze Could an Irish heart beart be Quiet iet While the spring wu was riot And the birds or of free fre America were slut sing in jag in the trees In the songs they were singing No familiar note was wan ringing But I strove to Imitate them an whis tied like a lad Oh my heart was warm to love Ioe thorn them For the very newn of 01 them For the songs that they helped me meto metO to I i WU was glad So I mocked the feathered choir To my hu hungry hearts desire Au An I gloried In the comradeship that made their joy my own Till a new note sounded BOunded stilling An Alt the rest a thrush was trilling Alt Ah the thrush I left behind me In the t fields about ne Where Wh e upon the whitehorn swaying saIng He was minstrel trel or of tb the MaTing Maying In the days of love and laughter that the years have bave laid aId at rest Here again his notes were ringing But Id lost the heart beart for singing Ah Ab the song I could not answer was as the theone one I knew t the e best t |