WILD Redbreast! hadst thou at Jemima's lip Pecked, as at mine, thus boldly, Love might say, A half-blown rose had tempted thee to sip Its glistening dews; but hallowed is the clay Which the Muse warms; and I, whose head is grey, Am not unworthy of thy fellowship; Nor could I let one thought -- one notion -- slip That might thy sylvan confidence betray. For are we not all His without whose care Vouchsafed no sparrow falleth to the ground? Who gives his Angels wings to speed through air, And rolls the planets through the blue profound; Then peck or perch, fond Flutterer! nor forbear To trust a Poet in still musings bound. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BRER RABBIT, YOU'S DE CUTES' OF 'EM ALL by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: AMI GREEN by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THE BIRTHNIGHT: TO F by WALTER JOHN DE LA MARE THE RUINS OF CORINTH by ANTIPATER OF SIDON MORNING STAR by HARRIET R. BEAN MOLE CATCHER by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN THE CHILD'S GRAVE by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN |