Page:Verses–Blanche·Baughan-1898.pdf/14

 Came to me for my solacement Some pretty bird a-flying; Flew round and round Above the ground Where yet the snow was lying:

Flew in and out the branches bare, Whose arms kind Spring was filling With baby sunbeams: everywhere Flew, flitted, flutter’d, trilling Out of his throat A little note, That thro’ my heart went thrilling,

Till, looking up, “O Spring!” I said, “Mute must I stand, confessing My human dulness. Take, instead Of mine, this singer’s blessing— In lightsome flight, And song’s delight, Thy very self expressing!”