With rakish eye and plenished crop, Oblivious of the farmer's gun, Upon the naked ash-tree top The Crow sits basking in the sun. An old ungodly rogue, I wot! For, perched in black against the blue, His feathers, torn with beak and shot, Let woful glints of April through. The year's new grass, and, golden-eyed, The daisies sparkle underneath, And chestnut trees on either side Have opened every ruddy sheath. But doubtful still of frost and snow, The ash alone stands stark and bare, And on its topmost twig the Crow Takes the glad morning's sun and air. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FRAGMENTS INTENDED FOR DEATH'S JEST-BOOK: A BEAUTIFUL NIGHT by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES THE VOLUNTEER by ELBRIDGE JEFFERSON CUTLER THE BRAES OF YARROW by JOHN LOGAN (1748-1788) VALENTINES TO MY MOTHER: 1880 by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI THE 'STAY AT HOME'S' PLAINT, 1878 by GEORGE AUGUSTUS BAKER JR. |