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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
TO A FLOCK OF GEESE, by CLARK MCADAMS
First Line: Ye wild, free troopers of the skies
Last Line: With your wild-ringing cries.
Subject(s): Feathers; Geese; Sky; Wilderness; Wings
First Line: Ye wild, free troopers of the skies
Last Line: With your wild-ringing cries.
Subject(s): Feathers; Geese; Sky; Wilderness; Wings
YE wild, free troopers of the skies
That ride in wedged ranks the blue
And unmarked roads of Paradise,
Who else but God had tutored you
That wind beset and tempest form
To buffet you with mighty sledge,
Ye still sweep onward through the storm
With that unbroken wedge?
Thrill me again, ye serried host,
With that shrill challenge which defies
The strength of whatsoever post
Is set to guard the bending skies
Against such rangers as ye are
That dare with swift and rhythmic wings
The night unlighted of a star
To guide God's feathered things.
Ye are the joy of being wild,
The sign and symbol of a blest
Estate so sweet and undefiled
It breathes its spirit undistressed
Adown the heights to which have soared
Since Eden was our deepest sighs —
Thrill me again, ye clamant horde,
With your wild-ringing cries.
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