What time the bittern, solitary bird, Hides now her head amid the whispering fern, And not a paddock vexes all the shore -- Nor feather ruffles the incumbent air, Save where the wagtail interrupts the noon. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE MOTHER WATCH by EDGAR ALBERT GUEST PAST AND PRESENT by THOMAS HOOD TORTOISE SHELL by DAVID HERBERT LAWRENCE THE MOWER'S SONG by ANDREW MARVELL CYNTHIA RETURNED FROM THE COUNTRY by PHILIP AYRES SONNETS OF MANHOOD: 4. THE OLD VALLEY by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) THE NAME by ANNA HEMPSTEAD BRANCH I THINK I KNOW NO FINER THINGS THAN DOGS by HALLY CARRINGTON BRENT |