Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. (1833–1908). An American Anthology, 1787–1900. 1900.
By MauriceThompson935 An Early Bluebird
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And trill thy sweetest note,
Bird of the heavenly plumes and twinkling wing
And silver-tonëd throat!
Thrills with a pulse of fire
That lights its buds. Blow, blow thy tender flute,
Thy reed of rich desire!
Quaver the fresh and true,
Dispel this lingering wintry mist of death
And charm the world anew!
Whose heavenly ecstasy
Foretells the May while yet March winds are strong,
Fresh faith appears with thee!
Through filmy splendor blown,
Thy hopeful voice set to the promise-pitch
Of melody yet unknown!
And send a deeper root
With every spring), hear, heed the free bird blow
Hope’s charmëd flute!
And who will heed thy song,
As prophecy, as hope, as promise rare,
Budding to bloom ere long?
Sweet sap and fragrant dew,
And human hearts, grown doubly warm at need,
Leaps answer strong and true:
That down spring winds doth float),
The promise of thine empyrean wing,
The hope that floods thy throat!