Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, TO A LOVER OF BIRDS, by NORMAN ROWLAND GALE


Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

TO A LOVER OF BIRDS, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: Across the window ropes of nuts
Last Line: And send all bedward, well content.
Subject(s): Birds; Nature


ACROSS the window ropes of nuts,
Unshelled and threaded on a line,
In darkling days of frozen ruts
Bring birds to breakfast and to dine.
From ivy cottages the tit—
A sudden puff of feathered bliss,
A pouncing joy of green and blue
That even men may long to kiss—
The dewfall's lightness in his flit,
Comes with a hope of seeds to you.

I think when God, the robin's friend,
Put winter sunset on his breast
And Christmas carols in his throat,
He sent for man a tuneful test
To try his gentleness by note
And marvel of the perfect coat.
And God, who gave to us the throng
Of birds to pipe the Spring along,
And from His starry magic bent
To dower with wings and heart and voice
The creatures that in grace can match
The snowflake's exquisite descent,
In glory watching shall rejoice
When in your garden's narrow patch
From Hunger's claw His birds you snatch
And send them bedward well content.

Tits, robins, sparrows, starlings, all
Fly down to food from branch and wall,
And in a circle ringed by wire
They chirp and chime, a happy quire!
The metal saviour link by link
Makes black Grimalkin pause and blink
Dissatisfaction, while the tits
Return to boughs, forsake the bits.
O lucky plan to baulk the greed
Of tigers of a smaller breed!
The portly chaffinch, safely fenced,
Perceives the danger, stealthy, dumb,
But, hopping till the crisis, pecks
(What faith in wire!) the final crumb.
Grimalkin springs; the chaffinch, fled,
Derides his foe from overhead;
Satiric chirps, ironic twits
In chorus with the saucy tits.
No bosomful of thanks and praise
Can e'er be set in chiming words
Too prettily for him who thinks
Of Christmas-boxes for the birds.
And God, who gave the birdfolk song
To draw the feet of Spring along
The lovely avenue of birth,
And dowered with heart and wing and voice
The creatures that in softness match
The lips of snow when kissing earth,
From glory gazing shall rejoice
That in your garden's narrow patch
You lift of Bounty's door the latch,
And light at Pity's lamp your mirth.

But what is here? Can fairy fruits
Be children borne by apple-roots?
Upon a homely English tree
There swings a tropic nut; and see
The titmouse stabbing safe and calm
The darling of the coco-palm!
Among the ivy, partly cut
That beaks may have the foreign food,
Is set a milkwhite bowl of nut
For birdlings in a nutty mood.
The bluetit in the cavern goes
And digs the kernel; pretty throes
Of all that's visible—his tail—
Are witnesses that it is well
Within the tawny dome of shell.
A soft-foot maid might capture there
The tit delighted by his fare,
If she but stole, yet hardly stirred,
To close this Canaan of the bird!

The news is out! The news is out!
From city orchards round about
Come haggard starlings, robins red,!
And birds with blue upon the head.
The nut between the branches clings;
From many an apple-bough there swings
A netted bag that kindness fills
For anxious crops and horny bills.
'Tis here, removed from fright and foes,
The chaffinch Aldermanic grows!
The bullfinch wins a comely round
From coco-nut and suet found
Where man's a friend, where boys are meek,
Where Paradise is at his beak!
What wonder if the birds all come
From cousin pear, from neighbour plum?
What wonder if your branches sway
With feathered flutes about to pay
By lovely airs the winter debt
They owe for plumpness in a net?

Before the pane the titmouse cuts
The unclasped necklaces of nuts,
Or perched attentive on a tree
Lets drop staccato notes of glee
When in your hand you bring the bowl
In which you stir the wonted dole.
O proper spending of your pence!
O bounty bearing fresh delight!
May Orpheus and Apollo bring
Their hearty best for you in Spring!
And may the cole-tit line a shell
With mattress for his promised young,
That in your mothering apple-boughs
A nest of melodies be swung!
A plot of bird-delighted lawn
Shall make you happiness enough,
With chaffinch matins at the dawn
And dewfall on the sparrow's ruff.
So shall your winter care be paid
By thrushes warbling unafraid,
And bounty ere the time of trills
Be given back by honest birds
In music pouring from their bills.

Moreover, God, who gave the throng
Of birds to pipe the Spring along,
And from a bridge of rainbow bent
To dower with heart and wing and voice
The creatures that in grace can match
The snowflake's exquisite descent,
From glory gazing shall rejoice
When in your garden's narrow patch,
Lifting of Bounty's door the latch,
From Hunger's claw His birds you snatch,
And send all bedward, well content.





Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!


Other Poems of Interest...
Home: PoetryExplorer.net