IS it a monster bee, Or is it a midget bird, Or yet an air-born mystery That now the marigold has stirred, And now on vocal wing To a neighbor bloom is whirred, In an aery ecstasy, in a passion of pilfering? Ah! 'tis the humming-bird, Rich-coated one, Ruby-throated one, That is not chosen for song, But throws its whole rapt sprite Into the secrets of flowers The summer days along, Into most odorous hours, Into a murmurous sound of wings too swift for sight! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...INDEPENDENCE DAY, 1956, A FAIRY TALE by JAMES GALVIN PRIDE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON BEFORE A PAINTING by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON DOWN BY THE CARIB SEA: 3. TEESTAY by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON MONADNOCK IN EARLY SPRING by AMY LOWELL EIGHTEEN-DOLLAR TAXI TRIP TO TIZAPAN AND BACK TO CHAPALA by CLARENCE MAJOR |