If these six letters came from birds, What gossip we would hear! The Thrush would tell me how he sang For twenty hours in twenty-four. The Starling, too, would thank me for A ribbon found down here; To give his home a lovely line, As well as comfort there. And hear what Robin Redbreast says, I read his letter now: 'My happiest hours are when my legs Are more than half-way up in snow.' Hear what the poor Hedge Sparrow writes, To ease her troubled breast; She says a Cuckoo lately dumped An extra youngster in her nest. The Cuckoo, that forgiven bird, Writes from his Mediterranean place – 'I hope to be in England soon, The tenth of April, by God's grace.' And, Lord, to read the Nightingale – 'My voice,' she says, 'to my own wonder, Rose into Heaven, all clear and strong, To lead a chorus full of thunder!' | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE NEW APOCRYPHA: BERENICE by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THAT KIND OF POEM' by KAREN SWENSON PROTESTS (AFTER A PAINTING BY HUGO BALLIN) by LOUIS UNTERMEYER SECOND BOOK OF AIRS: 7. THE MEASURE OF BEAUTY by THOMAS CAMPION MY LOVE by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL FROM THE ANTIQUE (2) by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI |