This is a Joy

This is joy no laughter shakes,

Nor shall my body rock;

It hears the Cuckoo’s voice in Spring,

And sends no echoes back.

When Music plays, it claps no hands,

To twirl on nimble toes;

It sits as quiet as a bird,

With all its young up close.

It is a joy that reconciles

The smallest with the greatest;

From what I was, and am, until

Life’s sweetest breath comes, latest.