O honey-throated warbler of the grove! That in the glooming woodland art so proud Of answering thy sweet mates in soft or loud, Thou dost not own a note we do not love; The moon is o'er thee, laying out the lawn In mighty shadows - but the western skies Are kept awake, to see the sun arise, Though earth and heaven would fain put back the dawn! While, wandering for the dreams such seasons give, With lonely steps, and many a pause between, The lover listens to thy songs unseen; And if, at times, the pure notes seem to grieve, Why lo! he weeps himself, and must believe That sorrow is a part of what they mean! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE EXILE'S SONG by ROBERT GILFILLAN THE BARREL-ORGAN by ALFRED NOYES SOMETIME by MAY LOUISE RILEY SMITH THE LAND OF COUNTERPANE by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON IN LAMPLIGHT by MARTIN DONISTHORPE ARMSTRONG ANOTHER REAPER by WILLIAM H. ARMSTRONG III |