Madrigal

My thoughts are flocks of little birds

That sing upon my lips all day:

Gaily they wing their joyous way ;

My thoughts are flocks of little birds.

They have no need of empty words

To sweetly pipe their blissful lay ;

My thoughts are flocks of little birds

That sing upon my lips all day.

Like dipping flight of little birds

Aflash among the fragrant may,

More silver-white than foamy curds,

Their wings make music all the day.

No shepherd boy with pipe astray

Flutes half so sweet among his herds

As do my thoughts, like little birds,

That sing their gladness all the day.