Laughing Song

by James Whitcomb Riley

Sing us something full of laughter;
    Tune your harp, and twang the strings
Till your glad voice, chirping after,
    Mates the song the robin sings:
Loose your lips and let them flutter
    Like the wings of wanton birds, --
Though they naught but laughter utter,
    Laugh, and we'll not miss the words.

Sing in ringing tones that mingle
    In a melody that flings
Joyous echoes in a jingle
    Sweeter than the minstrel sings:
Sing of Winter, Spring, or Summer,
    Clang of war, or low of herds;
Trill of cricket, roll of drummer--
    Laugh, and we'll not miss the words.

Like the lisping laughter glancing
    From the meadow brooks and springs,
Or the river's ripples dancing
    To the tune the current sings--
Sing of Now, and the Hereafter;
    Let your glad song, like the birds',
Overflow with limpid laughter--
    Laugh, and we'll not miss the words.