|
|
Classic and Contemporary Poetry
THISTLE-DOWN, by CLARA DOTY BATES First Line: Never a beak has my white bird Last Line: Is the thistle-down. Subject(s): Bords | |||
NEVER a beak has my white bird, Nor throat for song; But wings of silk by soft wind stirred Bear it along. With wings of silk and a heart of seed, Over field and town It sails, -- ah! quaint little bird indeed Is the thistle-down. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BUCOLIC COMEDY: THE FOX; FOR ANN PEARN by EDITH SITWELL IN A RAILROAD STATION by SARA TEASDALE THE WEST COUNTRY by ALICE CARY NOREMBEGA by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER A MOTH FOUND ON THE FLOOR by EDNA M. BECKER ON THE EVE OF DEPARTURE FROM O-- by MATILDA BARBARA BETHAM-EDWARDS MIDNIGHT FIRES by GORDON BOTTOMLEY JOSEPH'S REFORM (A TALE OF THE HOT DOG TAVERN) by BERTON BRALEY |
| |