Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE WOOD THRUSH, by SUSAN SHARP ADAMS



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THE WOOD THRUSH, by            
First Line: At eve I hear him in the woods
Last Line: To reproduce his wildwood lay.
Subject(s): Beauty; Birds; Singing & Singers; Thrushes; Songs


At eve I hear him in the woods
That skirt the shore.
He sings of fragrant wilding rose,
And ocean roar,
And purple iris on the brink
Of banks with mountain laurel pink.

I fain would bid my voice repeat
With studied art,
The lilting cadence of the song
That thrills my heart.
But though I bend to catch the strain,
My quest is fugitive and vain.

Untaught, by gift of God he sings
His song ornate.
Nor reed, nor stave, nor human voice
Can imitate,
Nor books nor learning teach the way
To reproduce his wildwood lay.





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