SWEET, sweet, the lusty thrush Sings in the evening hush: Summer is come at last; The grey day's over and past; Better for birds and men. So long the East wind stayed, So long the rose delayed, That now 'tis midsummer When songs must die, my dear, And silence come again. Sing, thrush, while yet you may, You have so brief a day, You and the rose new-blown; You are scarce here, you are flown; The silence aches and stings. The rose you waited for Is here sweet as of yore; And sweet's the hour and sweet The day's long golden heat: Alack, that songs have wings! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MONUMENT MOUNTAIN by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT THIRD BOOK OF AIRS: SONG 23 by THOMAS CAMPION THE TAY BRIDGE DISEASTER by WILLIAM MCGONAGALL THE GREEK AT CONSTANTINOPLE by RICHARD MONCKTON MILNES SONG OF THE SILENT LAND by JOHANN GAUDENZ VON SALIS-SEEWIS CHOEPHOROI: ORESTES GOES MAD by AESCHYLUS THE KNIGHT AND THE LADY; DOMESTIC LEGEND OF THE REIGN OF QUEEN ANNE by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM INAUGURATION SONNET: WILLIAM JEWETT TUCKER by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE IN MEMORY OF MY DEAR GRANDCHILD ELIZABETH .. WHO DECEASED 1665 by ANNE BRADSTREET |