Classic and Contemporary Poetry
TO A LOVER OF BIRDS, by NORMAN ROWLAND GALE Poet's Biography First Line: Across the window ropes of nuts Last Line: And send all bedward, well content. Subject(s): Birds; Nature | ||||||||
ACROSS the window ropes of nuts, Unshelled and threaded on a line, In darkling days of frozen ruts Bring birds to breakfast and to dine. From ivy cottages the tit A sudden puff of feathered bliss, A pouncing joy of green and blue That even men may long to kiss The dewfall's lightness in his flit, Comes with a hope of seeds to you. I think when God, the robin's friend, Put winter sunset on his breast And Christmas carols in his throat, He sent for man a tuneful test To try his gentleness by note And marvel of the perfect coat. And God, who gave to us the throng Of birds to pipe the Spring along, And from His starry magic bent To dower with wings and heart and voice The creatures that in grace can match The snowflake's exquisite descent, In glory watching shall rejoice When in your garden's narrow patch From Hunger's claw His birds you snatch And send them bedward well content. Tits, robins, sparrows, starlings, all Fly down to food from branch and wall, And in a circle ringed by wire They chirp and chime, a happy quire! The metal saviour link by link Makes black Grimalkin pause and blink Dissatisfaction, while the tits Return to boughs, forsake the bits. O lucky plan to baulk the greed Of tigers of a smaller breed! The portly chaffinch, safely fenced, Perceives the danger, stealthy, dumb, But, hopping till the crisis, pecks (What faith in wire!) the final crumb. Grimalkin springs; the chaffinch, fled, Derides his foe from overhead; Satiric chirps, ironic twits In chorus with the saucy tits. No bosomful of thanks and praise Can e'er be set in chiming words Too prettily for him who thinks Of Christmas-boxes for the birds. And God, who gave the birdfolk song To draw the feet of Spring along The lovely avenue of birth, And dowered with heart and wing and voice The creatures that in softness match The lips of snow when kissing earth, From glory gazing shall rejoice That in your garden's narrow patch You lift of Bounty's door the latch, And light at Pity's lamp your mirth. But what is here? Can fairy fruits Be children borne by apple-roots? Upon a homely English tree There swings a tropic nut; and see The titmouse stabbing safe and calm The darling of the coco-palm! Among the ivy, partly cut That beaks may have the foreign food, Is set a milkwhite bowl of nut For birdlings in a nutty mood. The bluetit in the cavern goes And digs the kernel; pretty throes Of all that's visiblehis tail Are witnesses that it is well Within the tawny dome of shell. A soft-foot maid might capture there The tit delighted by his fare, If she but stole, yet hardly stirred, To close this Canaan of the bird! The news is out! The news is out! From city orchards round about Come haggard starlings, robins red,! And birds with blue upon the head. The nut between the branches clings; From many an apple-bough there swings A netted bag that kindness fills For anxious crops and horny bills. 'Tis here, removed from fright and foes, The chaffinch Aldermanic grows! The bullfinch wins a comely round From coco-nut and suet found Where man's a friend, where boys are meek, Where Paradise is at his beak! What wonder if the birds all come From cousin pear, from neighbour plum? What wonder if your branches sway With feathered flutes about to pay By lovely airs the winter debt They owe for plumpness in a net? Before the pane the titmouse cuts The unclasped necklaces of nuts, Or perched attentive on a tree Lets drop staccato notes of glee When in your hand you bring the bowl In which you stir the wonted dole. O proper spending of your pence! O bounty bearing fresh delight! May Orpheus and Apollo bring Their hearty best for you in Spring! And may the cole-tit line a shell With mattress for his promised young, That in your mothering apple-boughs A nest of melodies be swung! A plot of bird-delighted lawn Shall make you happiness enough, With chaffinch matins at the dawn And dewfall on the sparrow's ruff. So shall your winter care be paid By thrushes warbling unafraid, And bounty ere the time of trills Be given back by honest birds In music pouring from their bills. Moreover, God, who gave the throng Of birds to pipe the Spring along, And from a bridge of rainbow bent To dower with heart and wing and voice The creatures that in grace can match The snowflake's exquisite descent, From glory gazing shall rejoice When in your garden's narrow patch, Lifting of Bounty's door the latch, From Hunger's claw His birds you snatch, And send all bedward, well content. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...INTERRUPTED MEDITATION by ROBERT HASS TWO VIEWS OF BUSON by ROBERT HASS THE FATALIST: HOME by LYN HEJINIAN WRITING IS AN AID TO MEMORY: 17 by LYN HEJINIAN LET US GATHER IN A FLOURISHING WAY by JUAN FELIPE HERRERA IN MICHAEL ROBINS?ÇÖS CLASS MINUS ONE by HICOK. BOB BREADTH. CIRCLE. DESERT. MONARCH. MONTH. WISDOM by JOHN HOLLANDER VARIATIONS: 16 by CONRAD AIKEN UNHOLY SONNET 13 by MARK JARMAN THE COUNTRY FAITH by NORMAN ROWLAND GALE |
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