Birds aren't people one has to walk to: Stay where you are, they'll come to you, talk too. What's in gadding in search of a neighbour? Far too much distance, much too much labour. Chat about trifles, argue a season: Surely you'll find no roots to grow trees on? The dark, steep, long way back -- is it longer? Wits any wiser, legs any stronger? Sit them right here in this very place, swayed By idleness eyeing a fiery parade Of robins, swallows, thrushes, sparrows, Coming like lightning, going like arrows. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE SPARROW by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR THE HOMECOMING by THOMAS HARDY SUMMER DAWN by WILLIAM MORRIS (1834-1896) TO A PRESIDENT by WALT WHITMAN SONNET (3) by JOACHIM DU BELLAY NIGHT by MARY FRANCES MARSHALL BUTTS MENDING BRUSH FENCE IN VERMONT by DANIEL LEAVENS CADY AN ELEGIE ON THE DEATH OF DUDLEY, LORD CARLETON by ABRAHAM COWLEY |