LOOK at this ball of intractable fluff, Panting and staring with piteous eyes! What a rebellion of heart! what a ruff Tickles my hand as the missel-thrush tries, Pecking my hand with her termagant bill, How to escape (and I love her, the sweet!) Back where the clustering oaks on the hill Climb to the blue with their branches, and meet! Nay, polished beak, you are pecking a friend! Bird of the grassland, you bleed at the wing! Stay with me, love; in captivity mend Wrong that was wrought by the boy and his sling. Would that a Priest of the Birds might arise, Wonderful words on his lips to persuade Reasoning creatures to leave to the skies Song at its purest, a-throb in the glade! Bow, woodland heart, to the yoke for a while! Soon shall the lyrics of wind in the trees Stir you to pipe in the green forest-aisle— God send me there with the grass to my knees! Trusting to-day an affectionate breast Full of its duty to welcome and share, Build from the twigs of my friendship a nest Not to be plundered, Delight of the air! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PROMETHEUS by GEORGE GORDON BYRON JEALOUSY by MARY ELIZABETH COLERIDGE THE LOVE SONNETS OF PROTEUS: 62. FAREWELL TO JULIET (14) by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT A WESTERN WASTE by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE PEDDLER WOMAN by ALICE ELODY BREDESON THE LIFE THAT IS by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT IN A LIBRARY by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON |