When on a summer's morn I wake, And open my two eyes, Out to the clear, born-singing rills My bird-like spirit flies. To hear the Blackbird, Cuckoo, Thrush, Or any bird in song; And common leaves that hum all day, Without a throat or tongue. And when Time strikes the hour for sleep, Back in my room alone, My heart has many a sweet bird's song -- And one that's all my own. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...I AM BORNE ONWARD by SARA TEASDALE TO ALISON CUNNINGHAM; FROM HER BOY by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON THIS COMPOST: 1. by WALT WHITMAN THE MOUNTAIN ECHO by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH THE WHITE CHARGER by ABUS SALT PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 47. AL-HAKIM by EDWIN ARNOLD A CHARACTER OF JOSEPH PRIESTLY by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD |