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The Birds of Passage
Whence comes those many-colored birds,
That fill with songs each field and bower;
When Winter's blasts their force have spent,
And spring to summer brings her dower.
That fill with songs each field and bower;
When Winter's blasts their force have spent,
And spring to summer brings her dower.
I've watched them, but I know not whence
With voices all-attuned they fly;
'Tis from some distant, unknown land,
Some sunnier clime and fairer sky.
With voices all-attuned they fly;
'Tis from some distant, unknown land,
Some sunnier clime and fairer sky.
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And these the notes they bring to tell,
Of that unseen and distant home;
To tempt us who are living here,
With them when winter comes to roam.
Of that unseen and distant home;
To tempt us who are living here,
With them when winter comes to roam.
Had I but wings I would not stay,
When chilling cold I feel him near;
But with them journeying there I'd fly,
That unknown land of which I hear.
When chilling cold I feel him near;
But with them journeying there I'd fly,
That unknown land of which I hear.
Poem No. 799; fall 1839
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