The Poet and his Songs Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
On this page, discover the full lyrics of the song "The Poet and his Songs" by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. Lyrxo.com offers the most comprehensive and accurate lyrics, helping you connect with the music you love on a deeper level. Ideal for dedicated fans and anyone who appreciates quality music.
As the birds come in the Spring,
  We know not from where;
As the stars come at evening
 From depths of the air;
As the rain comes from the cloud,
  And the brook from the ground;
As suddenly, low or loud,
  Out of silence a sound;
As the grape comes to the vine,
  The fruit to the tree;
As the wind comes to the pine,
  And the tide to the sea;
As come the white sails of ships
  O'er the ocean's verge;
As comes the smile to the lips,
  The foam to the surge;
So come to the Poet his songs,
  All hitherward blown
From the misty realm, that belongs
  To the vast unknown.
His, and not his, are the lays
  He sings; and their fame
Is his, and not his; and the praise
  And the pride of a name.
  We know not from where;
As the stars come at evening
 From depths of the air;
As the rain comes from the cloud,
  And the brook from the ground;
As suddenly, low or loud,
  Out of silence a sound;
As the grape comes to the vine,
  The fruit to the tree;
As the wind comes to the pine,
  And the tide to the sea;
As come the white sails of ships
  O'er the ocean's verge;
As comes the smile to the lips,
  The foam to the surge;
So come to the Poet his songs,
  All hitherward blown
From the misty realm, that belongs
  To the vast unknown.
His, and not his, are the lays
  He sings; and their fame
Is his, and not his; and the praise
  And the pride of a name.
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