Classic Poem

My ears have heard the larks at dawn,
Their bright sweet carols sing,
With burst of morning sun
And all the meadows ring.

My eyes have seen the shining gold,
That rimmed a purple cloud,
And sheets of olive green there spread,
While night puts on a shroud.

And in the east a moon that gleamed
With grey blue light and sheen,
On misty, drooping willow trees,
O fair and silent scene.

These are not half the things I see
On lovely nights and brilliant days,
It seems that hills and valleys wake
To make such holidays.