THIS is my brave singer, With his beak of gold; Now my heart's a captive In his song's sweet hold. O, the lark's a rover, Seeking fields above: But my serenader Hath a human love. "Hark!" he says, "in winter Nests are full of snow, But a truce to wailing, Summer breezes blow. "Hush!" he sings, "with night-time Phantoms cease to be, Join your serenader Piping on his tree." O, my little lover, Warble in the blue; Wingless must I envy Skies so wide for you. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE FLIGHT OF YOUTH by RICHARD HENRY STODDARD ABRAHAM by JOHN STUART BLACKIE ECHOES OF SPRING: 4 by MATHILDE BLIND HINC LACHRIMAE; OR THE AUTHOR TO AURORA: 12 by WILLIAM BOSWORTH THE CAGED LION by ANNE MILLAY BREMER ASOLANDO: MUCKLE-MOUTH MEG by ROBERT BROWNING |