DELIGHTFUL and thoughtful in equal measure, this little poem by Thomas Hardy gave, in its final line, the title to a song-cycle by the English composer Gerald Finzi.

Hardy's Collected Poems were a treasured possession of the composer, who set many of them to music.

PROUD SONGSTERS

The thrushes sing as the sun is going,

And the finches whistle in ones and pairs,

And as it gets dark loud nightingales

In bushes

Pipe, as they can when April wears,

As if all Time were theirs.

These are brand-new birds of twelve-months'

growing,

Which a year ago, or less than twain,

No finches were, nor nightingales,

Nor thrushes,

But only particles of grain,

And earth, and air, and rain.