Robert Burns

Sonnet on Hearing a Thrush Sing in a Morning Walk in January

written January 25, 1793, the birth-day of the author.

SING on, sweet Thrush, upon the leafless bough;
  Sing on, sweet bird, I listen to thy strain:
  See aged Winter, ‘mid his surly reign,
At thy blythe carol clears his furrow’d brow.

So in lone Poverty’s dominion drear
  Sits meek Content with light unanxious heart,
  Welcomes the rapid moments, bids them part,
Nor asks if they bring aught to hope or fear.

I thank thee, Author of this opening day!
  Thou whose bright sun now gilds the orient skies!
  Riches denied, thy boon was purer joys,
What wealth could never give nor take away!

Yet come, thou child of poverty and care;
The mite high Heaven bestow’d, that mite with thee I’ll share.