 | Evensong |  |
11
THE FIRST THRUSH
The thrush begins again,In the stripped and listening tree,
The old immortal pain,
Rapture and ecstasy.
Ah, when we were together,
Love, how we thrilled to hear
The voice of the Spring weather,
The wild hope, the wild cheer!
The heart that used to spring
To some strange joy before
Lies now a wingless thing,
Not to be cheated more.
Dear, by what groves you fare,
What waters of Paradise,
What glory of ambient air
Floods your amazéd eyes,
O when your first birds call
Clear from the heavenly hill,
You will remember all
The wild hope, the wild thrill.
Love, you will know full well
What yet I do not know,
That the thrush tried to tell
In earth's fields long ago.
| Evensong | |