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 | Fantasy and Passion |  |
11
TO AN ORIOLE.
How falls it, oriole, thou hast come to fly
In tropic splendor through our Northern sky?
In tropic splendor through our Northern sky?
At some glad moment was it nature's choice
To dower a scrap of sunset with a voice?
To dower a scrap of sunset with a voice?
Or did some orange tulip, flaked with black,
In some forgotten garden, ages back,
In some forgotten garden, ages back,
Yearning toward Heaven until its wish was heard,
Desire unspeakably to be a bird?
Desire unspeakably to be a bird?
| Fantasy and Passion | |