 | The poetical works of Henry Alford |  |
XXXIX. TO THE WOOD-PIGEON. WRITTEN IN PASSION-WEEK, 1833.
Tell me, thou mild and melancholy bird,
Whence learnedst thou that meditative voice?
For all the forest-passages rejoice,
And not a note of sorrow now is heard:
I would know more: how is it I preferred
To leave the station of my morning choice,
Where, with her sudden startle of shrill noise,
The budding thorn-bush brake the blackbird stirred?
Whence learnedst thou that meditative voice?
For all the forest-passages rejoice,
And not a note of sorrow now is heard:
I would know more: how is it I preferred
To leave the station of my morning choice,
Where, with her sudden startle of shrill noise,
The budding thorn-bush brake the blackbird stirred?
Sweet mourner, who, in time of fullest glee,
Risest to uttering but so sad a strain,
And in the bleak winds, when they ruffle thee,
Keepest thee still, and never dost complain;
I love thee: for thy note to memory brings
This sorrowing in the midst of happiest things.
Risest to uttering but so sad a strain,
And in the bleak winds, when they ruffle thee,
Keepest thee still, and never dost complain;
I love thee: for thy note to memory brings
This sorrowing in the midst of happiest things.
| The poetical works of Henry Alford | |