(Photo credit: Dominic Sherony via Wikipedia)
Music
Let me go where’er I will
I hear a sky-born music still;
It sounds from all things old,
It sounds from all things young,
From all that’s fair, from all that’s foul,
Peals out a cheerful song.
It is not only in the rose,
It is not only in the bird,
Not only when the rainbow glows,
Nor in the song of woman heard,
But in the darkest, meanest things
There alway, alway, something sings.
‘Tis not in the high stars alone,
Nor in the cup of budding flowers,
Nor in the redbreast’s mellow tones,
Nor in the bow that smiles in showers,
But in the mud and scum of things
There alway, alway, something sings.
The Bard on the Hill 
Indeed, always. Thanks for this. ~Regards, Dan
The wording of your reply (“always”) reminded me of typing the poem. It is “alway” in the poem and that’s what I think I typed, although habit may have carried me to putting “always”. But when I posted a preview, I saw the “always”, went back to check the poem again in my source, and then made the correction. Spell check in Word didn’t like what I wrote and corrected it without my noticing it for a bit.
Indeed, I hear the singing right now!
Love that this sings to the low as well as the high!
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