STOOP to my window, thou beautiful dove! Thy daily visits have touch'd my love. I watch thy coming, and list the note That stirs so low in thy mellow throat, And my joy is high To catch the glance of thy gentle eye. Why dost thou sit on the heated eaves, And forsake the wood with its freshen'd leaves? Why dost thou haunt the sultry street, When the paths of the forest are cool and sweet? How canst thou bear This noise of people -- this sultry air? Thou alone of the feather'd race Dost look unscared on the human face; Thou alone, with a wing to flee, Dost love with man in his haunts to be; And the "gentle dove" Has become a name for trust and love. A holy gift is thine, sweet bird! Thou'rt named with childhood's earliest word! Thou'rt link'd with all that is fresh and wild In the prison'd thoughts of the city child; And thy glossy wings Are its brightest image of moving things. It is no light chance. Thou art set apart, Wisely by Him who has tamed thy heart, To stir the love for the bright and fair That else were seal'd in this crowded air; I sometimes dream Angelic rays from thy pinions stream. Come then, ever, when daylight leaves The page I read, to my humble eaves, And wash thy breast in the hollow spout, And murmur thy low sweet music out! I hear and see Lessons of heaven, sweet bird, in thee! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...RABBI BEN EZRA by ROBERT BROWNING CHRISMUS ON THE PLANTATION by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR MACDONALD'S RAID - A.D. 1780 by PAUL HAMILTON HAYNE THE BRITISH CHURCH by GEORGE HERBERT UPON THE LOSS OF HIS MISTRESSES by ROBERT HERRICK TO HELEN (2) by EDGAR ALLAN POE |