The Builders

The Builders

I dwell near a murmur of leaves,And my labor is sweeter than rest;For over my head in the shade of the eavesA throstle is building his nest.And he teaches me gospels of joy,As he gurgles and shouts in his toil:It is brimming with rapture, his wild employ,Bearing a straw for spoil.So I know ‘twas a joyous GodWho stretched out the splendor of things,And gave to my bird the cool green sod,A sky, and a venture of wings.But why are my brothers so still?They are building a lordly hall—They are building a palace there on the hill,But there’s never a song in it all!

I dwell near a murmur of leaves,And my labor is sweeter than rest;For over my head in the shade of the eavesA throstle is building his nest.And he teaches me gospels of joy,As he gurgles and shouts in his toil:It is brimming with rapture, his wild employ,Bearing a straw for spoil.So I know ‘twas a joyous GodWho stretched out the splendor of things,And gave to my bird the cool green sod,A sky, and a venture of wings.But why are my brothers so still?They are building a lordly hall—They are building a palace there on the hill,But there’s never a song in it all!

I dwell near a murmur of leaves,And my labor is sweeter than rest;For over my head in the shade of the eavesA throstle is building his nest.

I dwell near a murmur of leaves,

And my labor is sweeter than rest;

For over my head in the shade of the eaves

A throstle is building his nest.

And he teaches me gospels of joy,As he gurgles and shouts in his toil:It is brimming with rapture, his wild employ,Bearing a straw for spoil.

And he teaches me gospels of joy,

As he gurgles and shouts in his toil:

It is brimming with rapture, his wild employ,

Bearing a straw for spoil.

So I know ‘twas a joyous GodWho stretched out the splendor of things,And gave to my bird the cool green sod,A sky, and a venture of wings.

So I know ‘twas a joyous God

Who stretched out the splendor of things,

And gave to my bird the cool green sod,

A sky, and a venture of wings.

But why are my brothers so still?They are building a lordly hall—They are building a palace there on the hill,But there’s never a song in it all!

But why are my brothers so still?

They are building a lordly hall—

They are building a palace there on the hill,

But there’s never a song in it all!


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