THAT'S the dove, my darling! Murmurous, soft and tender; There! she's mooning, crooning, On a pine-branch slender. And ah! it's the dove, the dove, dove, dove, That never can coo, but she pleads of love, Of love, love, love, In the shadows fair and tender. That's the wren, my fairy! With her we love-pledges; See her playing, straying Underneath the hedges. And oh! it's the wren, the wren, wren, wren, That is never contented too far from men, But lives, lives, lives Secure in the field-side hedges. That's the thrush, my beauty! Hark! and let us hear her, Yonder swinging, singing, Higher, bolder, clearer, And oh! it's the thrush, the thrush, thrush, thrush, Whose loud song wakens the noon-tide hush, The deep, deep hush Of the meadows and wolds, to hear her! That's the mockbird, sweetheart! To all tones beholden, Which are thrilling, filling Glades of woodland golden, And ah! it's a bird, a bird, bird, bird, The sweetest that ever a mortal heard. Ah! sweet, sweet, sweet, In the sunshine, fresh and golden! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO GOD THE FATHER by KATHERINE MANSFIELD ON THE PROSPECT OF PLANTING ARTS AND LEARNING IN AMERICA by GEORGE BERKELEY LONGING FOR HEAVEN by ANNE BRADSTREET STORY OF THE GATE by HARRISON ROBERTSON BEETHOVEN'S SEVENTH SYMPHONY by LYMAN WHITNEY ALLEN |