I SEE a tiny fluttering form Beneath the soft snow's soundless storm, 'Mid a strange noonlight palely shed Through mocking cloud-rifts overhead. All other birds are far from sight, -- They think the day has turned to night; But he is cast in hardier mould, This chirping courier of the cold. He does not come from lands forlorn, Where midnight takes the place of morn; Nor did his dauntless heart, I know, Beat first above Siberian snow; And yet an arctic bird he seems; Though nurtured near our southern streams, The tip of his small tail may be A snow-storm in epitome. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...OENONE by WILLIAM EDMONSTOUNE AYTOUN HE SAW MY HEART'S WOE by CHARLOTTE BRONTE SONNETS FROM THE PORTUGUESE: 33 by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING SONG FOR THE NEAPOLITANS by JOHN CHALK CLARIS AD CHLOEN, M.A.; FRESH FROM HER CAMBRIDGE EXAMINATION by EDWARD JAMES MORTIMER COLLINS OLNEY HYMNS: 52. LIVELY HOPE AND GRACIOUS FEAR by WILLIAM COWPER |