Birds all the summer day Flutter and quarrel Here in the arbour-like Tent of the laurel. Here in the fork The brown nest is seated; For little blue eggs The mother keeps heated. While we stand watching her Staring like gabies, Safe in each egg are the Bird's little babies. Soon the frail eggs they shall Chip, and upspringing Make all the April woods Merry with singing. Younger than we are, O children, and frailer, Soon in the blue air they'll be, Singer and sailor. We, so much older, Taller and stronger, We shall look down on the Birdies no longer. They shall go flying With musical speeches High overhead in the Tops of the beeches. In spite of our wisdom And sensible talking, We on our feet must go Plodding and walking. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SLANTS AT BUFFALO, NEW YORK by CARL SANDBURG THE SACK OF BALTIMORE by THOMAS OSBORNE DAVIS THE INDIAN EMPEROR: SONG by JOHN DRYDEN SARRAZINE'S SONG, FR. CHAITIVEL by MARIE DE FRANCE ANIMAL TRANQUILITY AND DECAY; A SKETCH by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH TO A MAID OF THIRTEEN by CHRISTOPHER BANNISTER A CHARACTER OF SARAH HALLOWELL VAUGHAN by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD EMANCIPATION IN THE DISTRICT OF COLUMBIA, APRIL 16, 1862 by JAMES MADISON BELL |