THERE'S a sleek thrush sits in the apple-tree When it blooms all over with rosy snow, And hark! how he opens his heart to me, Till its inmost hopes and desires I know! Blow, wind, blow, For the thrush will fly when the bloom must go. O a friend I had, and I loved him well, And his heart was open and sang to mine, And it pains me worse than I choose to tell, That he cares no more if I laugh or pine: Friend of mine, Can the music fade out of love like thine! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPRING QUIET by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI EARLY RISING by JOHN GODFREY SAXE CIRCUMSTANCE by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH A JAPANESE DWARF TREE by ISABEL ANDERSON A NEW PILGRIMAGE: 20 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT LULLABY by VIRGINIA FRAZER BOYLE THE APPROACH OF COLD WEATHER by SAMUEL EGERTON BRYDGES |