O MAGIC music of the Spring, -- Across the morning's breezy meads I hear the south wind in the reeds, I hear the golden bluebirds sing. O mellow music of the morn, -- Across the fading fields of Time How many joyous songs are borne From memory's enchanting clime. I see the grasses shine with dew, The cornflowers gleaming in the grain, And, oh ! the bluebirds sing-and you ? We fare together once again. O haunting music of the dusk, When silent birds are on the wing And sweet is scent of pine and musk- Oh, as we wander hand in hand Across the shadow-painted land, I hear the golden bluebirds sing! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MOTLEY by WALTER JOHN DE LA MARE A HEALTH by EDWARD COATE PINKNEY ONCE I PASS'D THROUGH A POPULOUS CITY by WALT WHITMAN AUTHOR TO HIS CHILD by FRANCES AIRTH HASCHEESH by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH RETURN by KENNETH SLADE ALLING THE BIRDS: THE HOOPOE'S CALL TO HIS WIFE PROCNE, THE NIGHTINGALE by ARISTOPHANES |