 | Landscapes in verse |  |
Thus in the absence of his plumy love,
Tender of heart, the Turtle tunes his voice
To plainings gentle, and the interval
Soothes with a soft consolatory song,
While on the tow'ring tree's supremest bough
Waving he sits to ken his wand'ring mate:
But, lo! at length she cuts the blue profound
With wing precipitate and fond, while all
The glowing purple of her glossy neck
Sun-burnish'd glitters in the beam of day,
Then glad he gives his plumage to the breeze,
And springs along to welcome her return.
Tender of heart, the Turtle tunes his voice
To plainings gentle, and the interval
Soothes with a soft consolatory song,
63
Waving he sits to ken his wand'ring mate:
But, lo! at length she cuts the blue profound
With wing precipitate and fond, while all
The glowing purple of her glossy neck
Sun-burnish'd glitters in the beam of day,
Then glad he gives his plumage to the breeze,
And springs along to welcome her return.
| Landscapes in verse | |