(@3The bird-notes in italics are those of Procne breaking in.@1) Epopoi popo popo popo poi Come one, come all, my feathered folk, fly over! The farm-lands forsake, the rich fields of grain, from barley-feast and seed-picking up and away strong generations of birds fluttering innumerable, swift, and smoothly calling. Up from the arable come you smaller folk about the clods with pipe so slender twittering for gladness. @3tio tio tio tio tio tio tio tio@1 Hurry over from the ivied city gardens, -- quick! from your forage begone! From the hill hurry you strippers of the bush-olive, nibblers of the arbute, -- flit across the air to me, hurry, obey my call! Marshy dyke leave you now all who snap piercing gnats. Water-fowl, leave the moist meadow-lands; seek no more heart's delight deep in green Marathon. Hither come all, hither come @3you@1 speckled and splashed francolin francolin! Birds of all feather, the sea's generations, over the billows with halcyons flying, hasten you hither, await our intelligence. Here at our summoning, flock upon flock of them, all birds long-throated assemble. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...POETRY by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON CRY WOE, WOE, AND LET THE GOOD PREVAIL, FR. AGAMEMNON by AESCHYLUS HAWTHORNE by AMOS BRONSON ALCOTT WINTER STORES by CHARLOTTE BRONTE LYNTON VERSES: 6. SYMPHONY by THOMAS EDWARD BROWN |