What is a bird but a living flower? A flower but the soul of some dead bird? And what is a weed but the dying breath Of a perjured word? A flower is the soul of a singing-bird, Its scent is the breath of an old-time song: But a weed and a thorn spring forth each day For a new-done wrong. Dead souls of song-birds, thro' the green grass, Or deep in the midst of the golden grain, In woodland valley, where hill-streams pass, We flourish again. We flowers are the joy of the whole wide earth, Sweet nature's laughter and secret tears -- Whoso hearkens a bird in its spring-time mirth The song of a flow'r-soul hears! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...NEW FRIENDS AND OLD FRIENDS by JOSEPH PARRY STEEL OR GOLD?; THE QUESTION by LOUISA SARAH BEVINGTON A RAINY DAY by JOHN GARDINER CALKINS BRAINARD MUSIC ON CHRISTMAS MORNING by ANNE BRONTE MYSTERY by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING SONNETS FROM THE PORTUGUESE: 12 by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING |