The eucalyptus-blooms are sweet With honey, and the birds all day Sip the clear juices forth: brown-grey, A bird-like thing with tiny feet Cleaves to the boughs, or with small wings Amidst the leafy spaces springs, And in the moonshine with shrill cries Flits bat-like where the white gums rise. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CHRISTMAS DAY IN THE WORKHOUSE by GEORGE ROBERT SIMS THE MAY QUEEN by ALFRED TENNYSON COLIN AND LUCY by THOMAS TICKELL THESEUS, SELECTION by BACCHYLIDES MEMORY by AMANDA LUELLA BARLOW AN EPITAPH UPON THE DEATH OF SIR PHILIP SIDNEY by RICHARD BARNFIELD |