Cheerfulness

The bird is happy all the day,
The morning hears his early songs;
The love, that breathes the morning lay;
To evening's shade the note prolongs.
Never weary, never fearful,
Always singing, always cheerful.

Is  man less happy than a bird?
Has he less power his song to raise?
Why, then, so seldom is he heard
In the glad notes of joy and praise?
Often weary, often fearful,
Seldom singing, seldom cheerful.

Oh, be a, bird, a cheerful bird;
Thy love like his, as pure and free;
Till all the earth and air is stirred
With notes of joy and liberty.
Never weary, never fearful,
Always singing, always cheerful.

— Christ in the Soul (1872) XX.