WHEN the inmate stirs, the birds retire discreetly From the window-ledge, whereon they whistled sweetly And on the step of the door, In the misty morning hoar; But now the dweller is up they flee To the crooked neighbouring codlin-tree; And when he comes fully forth they seek the garden, And call from the lofty costard, as pleading pardon For shouting so near before In their joy at being alive: -- Meanwhile the hammering clock within goes five. I know a domicile of brown and green, Where for a hundred summers there have been Just such enactments, just such daybreaks seen. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE IRISH SPINNING-WHEEL by ALFRED PERCEVAL GRAVES SHE IS FAR FROM THE LAND by THOMAS MOORE ALL THINGS CAN TEMPT ME by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS THE SEAMY SIDE OF MOTLEY by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS IMITATIONS OF SHAKESPEARE by JOHN ARMSTRONG VERSES ON MRS. ROWE by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD THY BIRTHDAY by CLAUDE A. BARR |