THE day before the bluebird came Was no more shrill in silences Than any day in mid-March is; No moment listened in a flame Of radiance for coming wings. But O, this morning how the maples take the sun! Hark! through the awe of close, unbudded things, Before the sparrow has begun, Comes the sweet hush! Sharp, blue wings in last year's bush, And then that first, wild, unforgotten ecstasy That cannot be Other than hearing, seeing, dreaming, feeling, Mysterious living to its fill, For all this little edge of earth goes reeling Out to eternity and back within one trill! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE EXPANDED COMPOSITION by CLARENCE MAJOR COUNSEIL TO A BACHELER by MARIANNE MOORE REMBRANDT TO REMBRANDT by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON FIFTH AVENUE-SPRING AFTERNOON by LOUIS UNTERMEYER THE FIRST VOYAGE OF JOHN CABOT [1497] by KATHARINE LEE BATES |