How blithe the spirit of the wild
Though winter nips its wing.Still it will go forth brazenly,
Lift up its voice and sing.
It plays amongst the scatterings
Of humanity’s toys,
Yet still maintains exuberance
For all its wilder joys.
Of give me, Lord, the same blithe joy
This bold rascal displays
That I might know his joy myself
When I face bitter days.
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