SWIFTLY through the forest brake Piping birds their journeys take; Comes a jangle of bird-speech From the pine-boughs' utmost reach, -- Here a rueful miserere, There a twitter glib and cheery; These in prelude, those abating, Or a descant meditating; Shrilling others, open-throated; Till the mountain-walls without Find a voice to sing and shout, And lone Echo where she dwells Flings a chatter, backward-floated, To the music of the dells. On brisk wing, with murmur low, Ground-bees traffic to and fro, Born to toil, a snub-faced brood, Summer's faithful harvesters. Moulded cells of earth are theirs, Theirs an austere sisterhood: Harmless creatures, strange to hiving, That no carnal love ensue, But in wells of nectar diving Draw delicious honey-dew. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE PLAYERS ASK FOR A BLESSING ON THE PSALTERIES AND ON THEMSELVES by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS CATARINA TO CAMOENS by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING THE LONELY HOUSE by EMILY DICKINSON HARRY PLOUGHMAN by GERARD MANLEY HOPKINS ANOTHER FRANCIS OF ASSISI by FREDERICK HENRY HERBERT ADLER |