Ye birds that fly through the fields of air. 

What lessons of wisdom and truth ye bear!

Ye would teach our souls from the earth to rise; 

Ye would bid us all groveling scenes despise. 

Ye would tell us that all its pursuits are vain, 

That pleasure is toil ambition is pain 

That its bliss is touched with a poisoning leaven, 

Ye would teach us to fix our aim on Heaven.

Beautiful birds with lightsome wings,

Bright creatures that come with the voice of spring;

We see you arrayed in the hues of morn, 

Yet ye dream not of pride, and ye wist not of scorn!

Though rainbow splendor around you glows, 

Ye vaunt not the beauty, which Nature bestows; 

Oh, what a lesson for glory are ye! 

How ye preach the grace of humility!

Swift birds, that skim o'er the stormy deep, 

Who steadily onward your journey keep, 

Who neither for rest nor for slumber stay, 

But press still forward, by night or day, 

As in your unwearying course ye fly 

Beneath the clear unclouded sky; 

Oh! May we, without delay, like you, 

The path of duty and right pursue.

Sweet birds, that breathe the spirit of song, 

And surround Heaven's gate in melodious throng;

Who rise with the earliest beams of day, 

Your morning tribute of thanks to pay, 

Ye remind us that we should likewise raise 

The voice of devotion and song of praise; 

There's something about you that points on high, 

Ye beautiful tenants of earth and sky!