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 where 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 red-breast's mellow tone
Nor in the bow that smiles in showers
But in the mud and scum of things
There alway alway something sings