 | The Comrades |  |
38
To a Thrush
In the hour before the dawn,
In the hour when dreams are true,
When the moonlight's on the lawn
And the grass is hoar with dew,
In the hour when dreams are true,
When the moonlight's on the lawn
And the grass is hoar with dew,
Ere the clarion cock's astir
Or the cattle in the byre—
Come and perch upon the fir,
Come and take the topmost spire!
Or the cattle in the byre—
Come and perch upon the fir,
Come and take the topmost spire!
I shall wake and, through the pane,
I thy silhouette shall see,
I shall hear thy magic strain,
Rapturous thrush!—and bless thy tree.
I thy silhouette shall see,
I shall hear thy magic strain,
Rapturous thrush!—and bless thy tree.
39
Never thrilled through mortal ear
Earthly music more divine;
Never tree-top soared so near
God's own Paradise as thine!
Earthly music more divine;
Never tree-top soared so near
God's own Paradise as thine!
Let me, till the moon has set
And the darkness stills thy strain,
Listen; then, with eyelids wet,
Turn to happy sleep again.
And the darkness stills thy strain,
Listen; then, with eyelids wet,
Turn to happy sleep again.
| The Comrades | |