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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
THE FLYCATCHER, by SYLVIA DRYHURST LYND
First Line: That is the flycatcher's wing beneath the eaves
Last Line: Certain it is, when he is gone, summer is gone.
Alternate Author Name(s): Lynd, Mrs. Robert
Subject(s): Flycatchers
First Line: That is the flycatcher's wing beneath the eaves
Last Line: Certain it is, when he is gone, summer is gone.
Alternate Author Name(s): Lynd, Mrs. Robert
Subject(s): Flycatchers
That is the flycatcher's wing beneath the eaves,
A frivolous quick sound like an opening fan.
Under the scalloped canopy of leaves
He has found the nest made in some other Spring
Between the wall and the tall creeper stem,
Old as the wall itself, a slender tree
(Perhaps one of Raleigh's earliest transplanting);
And now about the window flit from earliest dawn
The skilful wings. A bird of urbane
Elegance is the flycatcher, straight backed, self possessed, slim.
He watches and marks his prey and neatly outflies him,
A peregrine in miniature. The midges are conspicuously
Fewer for his hunting.
Good luck, it is said, attends the dwelling that he makes his own.
Certain it is, when he is gone, Summer is gone.
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