Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, ON A FLOCK OF BIRDS FLYING SOUTHWARD BY NIGHT, by LEWIS MORRIS (1833-1907)


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

ON A FLOCK OF BIRDS FLYING SOUTHWARD BY NIGHT, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: Above the silent fields and slumbering town
Last Line: Shall speed to meet the spring.
Subject(s): Birds; Migration


ABOVE the silent fields and slumbering town,
Fly onward, fearless wanderers, swiftly fly!
Speed fast, speed far, nor ever settle down,
Unmarked upon the starless midnight sky,
Save where white breasts reflect the city's light,
And from your rushing, pulsing squadrons high
Comes a faint ghostly cry.

Alas! for the sweet summer past and done,
Again the cruel frozen north-wind blows,
Fly southward, southward still pursue the sun
Where by warm waves the crowned palm-tree grows.
Leave care and toil and fret and murky air
To us, who with the ever-darkening day,
Chained fast must bear to stay.

Fly on, fly fast, till with the tardy light
A second Summer wakes the purple sea,
And Winter flies, defeated with the night,
Then gliding earthward, slowly, wearily,
By some hushed Afric forest-depths profound,
Or windless glare of some surf-beaten strand
Greet the old Southern land.

But oh! forget not 'neath that fuller sun,
Our Northern Summer's shy reluctant grace,
The white-robed Spring ere primrose-tide is done,
Blithe June or ruddy Autumn's sunburnt face,
The flowery depths, the golden waves of wheat,
The symphonies of faithful wedded song
Piped gladly all day long.

Here is your home and ours, where the young brood
Were born, and essayed first their callow wings,
Here, where laborious summers gained their food,
And homely love despised all outer things.
Here is full life, not there, though flower and fruit
Unfading spring, and weal be yours and rest,
The North still holds the nest.

Here will we stay content, whose lot is cast
Far in the wintry North, for hearth and home,
And ye, too, when the frozen blasts are past,
Again to this our well-loved land shall come.
April shall come again, and bring with her
New wholesome toils, and ye with northward wing
Shall speed to meet the Spring.





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