by Edwin Markham (1852 - 1940)
Joy of the morning
Language: English
I hear you, little bird, Shouting a-swing above the broken wall. Shout louder yet: no song can tell it all. Sing to my soul in the deep, still wood: 'T is wonderful beyond the wildest word: I 'd tell it, too, if I could. Oft when the white still dawn Lifted the skies and pushed the hills apart, I 've felt it like a glory in my heart, (The world's mysterious stir) But had no throat like yours, my bird, Nor such a listener.
Text Authorship:
- by Edwin Markham (1852 - 1940), "Joy of the morning", appears in The Man with the Hoe and Other Poems, first published 1899 [author's text checked 1 time against a primary source]
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):
- by Mildred J. Hill (1859 - 1916), "Joy of the morning", published 1908 [ voice and piano ] [sung text not yet checked]
- by Reginald Chauncey Robbins (1871 - 1955), "Joy of the morning", published 1934 [ high voice and piano ] [sung text not yet checked]
- by Harriet Ware (1877 - 1962), "Joy of the morning", published 1906 [ high voice and piano ] [sung text checked 1 time]
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
This text was added to the website: 2009-01-26
Line count: 12
Word count: 84