O BLITHE new-comer! I have heard, I hear thee and rejoice. A cuckoo! shall I call thee bird, Or but a wandering voice? While I am lying on the grass Thy twofold shout I hear; From hiss to hill it seems to pass, At once far off and near. Though babbling only to the vale Of sunshine and of flowers, Thou bringest unto me a tale Of visionary hours. Thrice welcome, darling of the spring! Even yet thou art to me No bird, but an invisible thing, A voice, a mystery; The same whom in my school-boy days I listened to; that cry Which made me look a thousand ways, In bush and tree and sky. To seek thee did I often rove Through woods and on the green; And thou wert still a hope, a love; Still longed for, never seen. And I can listen to thee yet; Can lie upon the plain And listen, till I do beget That golden time again. O blessed bird! the earth we pace Again appears to be An unsubstantial, fairy place; That is fit home for thee! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THIRD BOOK OF AIRS: SONG 27. LOVE, AND NEVER FEAR by THOMAS CAMPION THE ENKINDLED SPRING by DAVID HERBERT LAWRENCE A WAYFARING SONG by HENRY VAN DYKE THE IVORY GATE: DIRGE by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES AN OLD SONG by SOLOMON BLOOMGARDEN DISCOURAGING by DANIEL CHAUNCEY BREWER WASHINGTON by EVALYN TERRY BROOKS |