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Henry Van Dyke - The Echo In The Heart
Work rating: Low

It`s little I can tell
  About the birds in books;
And yet I know them well,
  By their music and their looks:
      When May comes down the lane,
      Her airy lovers throng
      To welcome her with song,
      And follow in her train:
      Each minstrel weaves his part
      In that wild-flowery strain,
      And I know them all again
      By their echo in my heart.
It`s little that I care
  About my darling`s place
In books of beauty rare,
  Or heraldries of race:
      For when she steps in view,
      It matters not to me
      What her sweet type may be,
      Of woman, old or new.
      I can`t explain the art,
      But I know her for my own,
      Because her lightest tone
      Wakes an echo in my heart.
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