Wood thrush, crying, Bird in the dusk, in the rain, Is it happiness or pain That batters now The small breast on the blown and shadowy bough? Wild bird shaken under the leaning cloud, Your wings are wet with rain, your throat is full Of cries for the silver rain! Oh, brave and loud Your throat is, at the wood's edge; beautiful In the summer dusk are the drenched and darkened cedars, Are the blackberry blossoms dripping and dimly white. Oh, bird, I too am broken upon this night! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A THOUGHT by WILLIAM HENRY DAVIES WINTER HEAVENS by GEORGE MEREDITH A MOTHER'S LOVE by JAMES MONTGOMERY THE LAMENTATION OF THE OLD PENSIONER (1) by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS A SONG OF PROGRESS by ALEXANDER ANDERSON SAD MEMORIES by CHARLES STUART CALVERLEY AUGUST by MADISON JULIUS CAWEIN |