WHY, ruthless shepherds, from my dewy spray In my lone haunt, why tear me thus away? Me, the Nymphs' wayside minstrel, whose sweet note O'er sultry hill is heard and shady grove to float? Lo! when the blackbird, thrush, and greedy host Of starlings fatten at the farmer's cost, With just revenge those ravagers pursue: But grudge not my poor leaf and sip of grassy dew. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE CHARACTER OF A GOOD PARSON by GEOFFREY CHAUCER PALINGENESIS by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW THE BRAVEST BATTLE by CINCINNATUS HEINE MILLER THE TWO TREES by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS MARIA MINOR by MARGARET AVISON MARCELIA; A TRAGICOMEDY. SONG by FRANCES BOOTHBY JOURNEYS by KATHLEEN REA BRAID |