The new minnesinger and other poems By Arran Leigh [i.e. K. H. Bradley and E. E. Cooper] |
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THE THRUSH'S NEST.
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 | The new minnesinger and other poems |  |
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THE THRUSH'S NEST.
‘As snow in summer.’
—Prov.
'Twas in those fairest vernal days
That come before the time,
And sudden reckless hopes will raise
Of summer's golden prime,—
That come before the time,
And sudden reckless hopes will raise
Of summer's golden prime,—
The wind that wander'd from the west
With blossom-scent was fill'd,
When the too eager thrush her nest
Impetuous 'gan to build.
With blossom-scent was fill'd,
When the too eager thrush her nest
Impetuous 'gan to build.
The open sky, the soften'd air
All frosty fear belied;
She saw the greening bough prepare
Her treasur'd home to hide.
All frosty fear belied;
She saw the greening bough prepare
Her treasur'd home to hide.
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To her glad eyes for love's fair feast
All things were ready made:
With each new sun her faith increast,
And four blue eggs were laid.
All things were ready made:
With each new sun her faith increast,
And four blue eggs were laid.
And when her hardy bliss to spy
With noiseless step we came,
The brightness of her patient eye
Put all our fears to shame;
With noiseless step we came,
The brightness of her patient eye
Put all our fears to shame;
But yet we feared. The sky grew gray,
And, ere we turned to go,
Lo, on a budding twig there lay
The first flake of the snow!
And, ere we turned to go,
Lo, on a budding twig there lay
The first flake of the snow!
Full soon that fragile house was beat
With gusts of snowy rain:
Through weary days of blinding sleet
We thought of it in pain.
With gusts of snowy rain:
Through weary days of blinding sleet
We thought of it in pain.
The air was clear'd; we found the nest
A shelterless abode,
Where for the mother's brooding breast
The snowy flakes were strowed.
A shelterless abode,
Where for the mother's brooding breast
The snowy flakes were strowed.
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For cradle-bed such coverlet
'Twas piteous to see!
That sight I never can forget
Of orphan misery.
'Twas piteous to see!
That sight I never can forget
Of orphan misery.
And she, ah she who thought to make
A home of happy cheer,
'Twas for a dearer sorrow's sake
Her grief to me was dear.
A home of happy cheer,
'Twas for a dearer sorrow's sake
Her grief to me was dear.
Who hath not felt her bitter smart,
And like the mother-bird
With too improvident a heart
Love's holy prompting heard?
And like the mother-bird
With too improvident a heart
Love's holy prompting heard?
Who when the clouds begin to break
Forbears bright hopes to weave?
From which, 'neath darken'd heavens, he'll take
A broken-hearted leave.
Forbears bright hopes to weave?
From which, 'neath darken'd heavens, he'll take
A broken-hearted leave.
How many promises of spring
To summer joys would grow,
If life but brought the warming wing
And not the winter snow!
To summer joys would grow,
If life but brought the warming wing
And not the winter snow!
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