 | Poems and Sonnets |  |
27
THE LOVE-NOTES.
Yesterday afternoon I strove to singAgainst a thrush high-perched upon a bough,
And certain notes that only every now
And then he introduced, seemed soft to ring
As if “Do you love me, sweet,” or some such thing
He kept repeating, and I failed to seize,
Accomplishing the stronger quavers, these
To which the thrush's soul most close did cling;
Ah! then I thought, the reason's very plain,
These are the love-notes—just as never man
Indite a sonnet for another can,
So these most luscious notes that downward rain
Are thoughts original of the thrush's brain,
And straight from out his love-sick fancy ran.
| Poems and Sonnets | |