 | Lyra Pastoralis |  |
14
The Mislethrush
CALLED ALSO THE STORM-COCK
O mislethrush, when winds sweep by,
And driving clouds obscure the sky—
Though not a leaf is seen around,
And not a flower bedecks the ground,
Thy voice is raised with storms to vie.
And driving clouds obscure the sky—
Though not a leaf is seen around,
And not a flower bedecks the ground,
Thy voice is raised with storms to vie.
On some tall oak thou perchest high,
As if the tempest to defy;
Bravely thou sitt'st, with music crown'd,
O Mislethrush.
As if the tempest to defy;
Bravely thou sitt'st, with music crown'd,
O Mislethrush.
When thickening troubles round me sigh,
And not a flower of joy is nigh,
Let echoes of that song resound
Within me, till my heart be found
Fraught with thy hopeful minstrelsy,
O Mislethrush.
And not a flower of joy is nigh,
Let echoes of that song resound
Within me, till my heart be found
Fraught with thy hopeful minstrelsy,
O Mislethrush.
| Lyra Pastoralis | |