THE blackbird sings in the hazel-brake, And the squirrel sits on the tree; And Blanche she walks in the merry greenwood, Down by the summer sea. The blackbird lies when he sings of love, And the squirrel, a thief is he; And Blanche is an arrant flirt, I swear, And light as light can be. O blackbird, die in the hazel-brake! And squirrel, starve on the tree! And Blanche -- you may walk in the merry greenwood. You are nothing more to me. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SEVEN TWILIGHTS: 3 by CONRAD AIKEN THE HEMP (A VIRGINIA LEGEND) by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET REGARDING CHAINSAWS by HAYDEN CARRUTH TO MARY CHURCH TERRELL - LECTURER by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON JULY IN GEORGY by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON |