Hymn/Song Information

THE BIRD SONG

The winter is over and gone at last;
The days of snow and rain are past.
Over the fields the flowers appear;
It is the song-dove’s voice we hear.
The singing of birds, a warbling band,
And the Spirit voice,
The voice of the song-dove is heard in our land,
The voice of the song-dove is heard in our land.

The time it is of the singing,
The singing of birds, a warbling band,
And the Spirit’s voice,
The voice of the song-dove is heard in our land,
Is heard in our land.

And gone are the plaintive days of Lent;
The week of the cross of Christ we spent.
Now He giveth us joy for woe;
Gather the flowers, the first that blow.
The singing of birds, a warbling band,
And flowers are words,
Are words the faithful may understand,
Are words the faithful may understand.

The time it is of the singing,
The singing of birds, a warbling band,
And the Spirit’s voice,
The voice of the song-dove is heard in our land,
Is heard in our land.

A sepulcher sealèd, a rock its door;
But winter is gone and comes no more.
The seal is broken and now are seen
Valleys and woods and gardens green.
The singing of birds, a warbling band,
’Mid flocks and herds,
The song of all nature is heard in our land,
The song of all nature is heard in our land.

The time it is of the singing,
The singing of birds, a warbling band,
And the Spirit’s voice,
The voice of the song-dove is heard in our land,
Is heard in our land.

And Christ is the song of everything,
For death is winter, and Christ is spring.
Fountains that warble in purling words,
Hark, how they echo the song of birds.
The singing of birds, a warbling band,
And the purling words,
Of brooks and waters are heard in our land,
Of brooks and waters are heard in our land.

The time it is of the singing,
The singing of birds, a warbling band,
And the Spirit’s voice,
The voice of the song-dove is heard in our land,
Is heard in our land.