Classic and Contemporary Poetry
THE STARLING, by FORD MADOX FORD Poet's Biography First Line: It's an odd thing how one changes! Last Line: Yes, it's strange how one changes! . . . Alternate Author Name(s): Hueffer, Ford Hermann; Hueffer, Ford Madox Subject(s): Starlings | ||||||||
It's an odd thing how one changes! . . . Walking along the upper ranges Of this land of plains In this month of rains, On a drying road where the poplars march along, Suddenly, With a rush of wings flew down a company, A multitude, throng upon throng, Of starlings, Successive orchestras of wind-blown song, Whirled, like a babble of surf, On to the roadside turf -- And so, for a mile, for a mile and a half . . . a long way Flight followed flight, Thro' the still, grey light Of the steel-grey day, Whirling beside the road in clamorous crowds, Never near, never far, in the shade of the poplars and clouds! It's an odd thing how one changes! . . . And what strikes me now as most strange is, After the starlings had flown Over the plain and were gone, There was one of them stayed on alone On a twig; it chattered on high, Lifting its bill to the sky, Distending its throat, Crooning harsh note after note, In soliloquy, Sitting alone. And, after a hush, It gurgled as gurgles a well, Warbled as warbles a thrush, Had a try at the sound of a bell And mimicked a jay . . . But I, Whilst the starling mimicked on high, Pulsing its throat and its wings, I went on my way Thinking of things Onwards, and over the range And that's what is strange. I went down 'twixt tobacco and grain, Descending the chequerboard plain Where the apples and maize are, Under the loop-holed gate In the village wall Where the goats clatter over the cobbles And the intricate, straw-littered ways are . . . The ancient watchman hobbles, Cloaked, with his glasses of horn at the end of his nose, With velvet short hose And a three-cornered hat on his pate, And his pike-staff and all; And he carries a proclamation -- An invitation To great and small, Man and beast, To a wedding feast; And he carries a bell and rings . . . From the steeple looks down a saint, From a doorway a queenly peasant Looks out, in her bride gown of lace, And her sister, a quaint little darling Who twitters and chirps like a starling. And this little old place, It's so quaint, It's so pleasant, And the watch bell rings and the church bell rings And the wedding procession draws nigh, Bullock carts, fiddlers and goods; But I Pass on my way to the woods Thinking of things. Years ago, I'd have stayed by the starling, Marking the iridescence of his throat, Marvelling at the change in his note; I'd have said to the peasant child: 'Darling, Here's a groschen and give me a kiss!' . . . I'd have stayed To sit with the bridesmaids at table And have taken my chance Of a dance With the bride in her laces Or the maids with the blond, placid faces And ribbons and crants in the stables. . . . But the church bell still rings And I'm far away out on the plain, In the grey weather among the tobacco and grain, And the village and gate and the wall Are a long grey line with the church over all. And miles and miles away in the sky The starlings go wheeling round on high Over the distant ranges. The violin strings Thrill away and the day grows more grey. And I. . . . I stand thinking of things. Yes, it's strange how one changes! . . . | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AGAINST STARLINGS by STANLEY PLUMLY THE MANOEUVRE by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS A PLAGUE OF STARLINGS (FISK CAMPUS) by ROBERT EARL HAYDEN THE DEATH OF THE STARTLING by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE STARLINGS by WILLIAM HENRY DAVIES STARLINGS ON THE ROOF by THOMAS HARDY THE STARLINGS by CHARLES KINGSLEY A CHILD'S SONG by DORA SIGERSON SHORTER THE STARLING; OR NEST-TALK AND FEAR-TALK by CHARLES TENNYSON TURNER |
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