TO A THRUSH
Singing one Spring morn ’mid deepest fog
Throstle-bird!I have heardThis thy voice of cheer,As I layIn the swayOf a waking fear;And its message dropt me peace,From its rapt career.Yet, say howThou may’st nowEvery note prolong!Doth the fogNever clogNever still thy song?Doth thy music ever riseMellow, sweet, and strong?Ho! when MornDoth adornShuddering Mother Earth,Jocund DaySwelling gay,Kingly in his girth,I may something understandThis so mellow mirth.But when mornRises worn,As on gloomy wing;When in murkLight doth lurkLike some callow thing,Tell me, throstle, how thou thenCheerily canst sing?OftentimePeace sublime,’Mid the fairest day,Flickers wanAnd is gonePhantom on its way,Then a sudden gloom enshroudsHearts within its sway.Then the smileFades awhile,Then the laugh is still,Then the tuneFalters, hewnBy the touch of Ill,Then Life’s music flutters lowSorrow to fulfil.Ill-contentTo be pentOut of aught, griefs comeAll unbidRight amidSpirits frolicsome:Ah! then lips attuned to praisePress each other dumb!Yet, sweet bird,Nought has blurredThese most wondrous throes:MelodyRapt and freeOut the midst of woes;May I turn to thee to learnWhat thy spirit knows!That when gloomLike a doomBlots the azure sky,I may learnBlight to spurn,And the Day descry,Howsoe’er the Word of IllSpells the Earth awry.Smirk and smutchMay I touchTo a loftier scheme,Irk and DoubtRavelling outIn a song supreme;As, rare bird, thy spirits turnSturdily thy theme.
Throstle-bird!I have heardThis thy voice of cheer,As I layIn the swayOf a waking fear;And its message dropt me peace,From its rapt career.Yet, say howThou may’st nowEvery note prolong!Doth the fogNever clogNever still thy song?Doth thy music ever riseMellow, sweet, and strong?Ho! when MornDoth adornShuddering Mother Earth,Jocund DaySwelling gay,Kingly in his girth,I may something understandThis so mellow mirth.But when mornRises worn,As on gloomy wing;When in murkLight doth lurkLike some callow thing,Tell me, throstle, how thou thenCheerily canst sing?OftentimePeace sublime,’Mid the fairest day,Flickers wanAnd is gonePhantom on its way,Then a sudden gloom enshroudsHearts within its sway.Then the smileFades awhile,Then the laugh is still,Then the tuneFalters, hewnBy the touch of Ill,Then Life’s music flutters lowSorrow to fulfil.Ill-contentTo be pentOut of aught, griefs comeAll unbidRight amidSpirits frolicsome:Ah! then lips attuned to praisePress each other dumb!Yet, sweet bird,Nought has blurredThese most wondrous throes:MelodyRapt and freeOut the midst of woes;May I turn to thee to learnWhat thy spirit knows!That when gloomLike a doomBlots the azure sky,I may learnBlight to spurn,And the Day descry,Howsoe’er the Word of IllSpells the Earth awry.Smirk and smutchMay I touchTo a loftier scheme,Irk and DoubtRavelling outIn a song supreme;As, rare bird, thy spirits turnSturdily thy theme.
Throstle-bird!I have heardThis thy voice of cheer,As I layIn the swayOf a waking fear;And its message dropt me peace,From its rapt career.
Throstle-bird!
I have heard
This thy voice of cheer,
As I lay
In the sway
Of a waking fear;
And its message dropt me peace,
From its rapt career.
Yet, say howThou may’st nowEvery note prolong!Doth the fogNever clogNever still thy song?Doth thy music ever riseMellow, sweet, and strong?
Yet, say how
Thou may’st now
Every note prolong!
Doth the fog
Never clog
Never still thy song?
Doth thy music ever rise
Mellow, sweet, and strong?
Ho! when MornDoth adornShuddering Mother Earth,Jocund DaySwelling gay,Kingly in his girth,I may something understandThis so mellow mirth.
Ho! when Morn
Doth adorn
Shuddering Mother Earth,
Jocund Day
Swelling gay,
Kingly in his girth,
I may something understand
This so mellow mirth.
But when mornRises worn,As on gloomy wing;When in murkLight doth lurkLike some callow thing,Tell me, throstle, how thou thenCheerily canst sing?
But when morn
Rises worn,
As on gloomy wing;
When in murk
Light doth lurk
Like some callow thing,
Tell me, throstle, how thou then
Cheerily canst sing?
OftentimePeace sublime,’Mid the fairest day,Flickers wanAnd is gonePhantom on its way,Then a sudden gloom enshroudsHearts within its sway.
Oftentime
Peace sublime,
’Mid the fairest day,
Flickers wan
And is gone
Phantom on its way,
Then a sudden gloom enshrouds
Hearts within its sway.
Then the smileFades awhile,Then the laugh is still,Then the tuneFalters, hewnBy the touch of Ill,Then Life’s music flutters lowSorrow to fulfil.
Then the smile
Fades awhile,
Then the laugh is still,
Then the tune
Falters, hewn
By the touch of Ill,
Then Life’s music flutters low
Sorrow to fulfil.
Ill-contentTo be pentOut of aught, griefs comeAll unbidRight amidSpirits frolicsome:Ah! then lips attuned to praisePress each other dumb!
Ill-content
To be pent
Out of aught, griefs come
All unbid
Right amid
Spirits frolicsome:
Ah! then lips attuned to praise
Press each other dumb!
Yet, sweet bird,Nought has blurredThese most wondrous throes:MelodyRapt and freeOut the midst of woes;May I turn to thee to learnWhat thy spirit knows!
Yet, sweet bird,
Nought has blurred
These most wondrous throes:
Melody
Rapt and free
Out the midst of woes;
May I turn to thee to learn
What thy spirit knows!
That when gloomLike a doomBlots the azure sky,I may learnBlight to spurn,And the Day descry,Howsoe’er the Word of IllSpells the Earth awry.
That when gloom
Like a doom
Blots the azure sky,
I may learn
Blight to spurn,
And the Day descry,
Howsoe’er the Word of Ill
Spells the Earth awry.
Smirk and smutchMay I touchTo a loftier scheme,Irk and DoubtRavelling outIn a song supreme;As, rare bird, thy spirits turnSturdily thy theme.
Smirk and smutch
May I touch
To a loftier scheme,
Irk and Doubt
Ravelling out
In a song supreme;
As, rare bird, thy spirits turn
Sturdily thy theme.