Nothing is so beautiful as spring - when weeds, in wheels, shoot long and lovely and lush; Thrush's eggs look little low heavens, and thrush through the echoing timber does so rinse and wring the ear, it strikes like lightning to hear him sing.

Nothing is so beautiful as spring - when weeds in wheels shoot long and lovely and lush Thrush's eggs look little low heavens and thrush through the echoing timber does so rinse and wring the ear it strikes like lightning to hear him sing.