University of Virginia Library

THE LINNET.

Listen! 'Tis the linnet,
On the bramble glorying in the gladness of the minute,
Lilting out the lightsomeness, that Springtide wakens in it.
Pleasanter thy note is,
Holding all the homely joy that in th'air afloat is,
To mine ear than many a song from a stronger throat is.
Trill on trill ensuing,
How it tells of Winter past and the world's renewing,
All the winsome dear delights of the time of wooing,
All the cares of nesting,
All the happy hatching time, all the toils of questing!
Then, when flown the fledglings are, come the days of resting.
In the fields of stubble,
All the pleasant duties done, all the pretty trouble,
Gladsomer thine autumn is, sweeter because double.

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Then, when Yule is nighing,
When the woods are sad with snow and the winds are sighing,
Happy is thy death and thou hast no pang in dying.
Would that I might borrow
This thy fashion, linnet mine, careless for the morrow,
Living without greed of gain, dying without sorrow.