TO AN ORIOLE
by: Edgar Fawcett (1847-1904)
 OW falls
it, oriole, thou hast come to fly
- In tropic splendor through our Northern sky?
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- At some glad moment was it nature's choice
- To dower a scrap of sunset with a voice?
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- Or did some orange tulip, flaked with black,
- In some forgotten garden, ages back,
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- Yearning toward Heaven until its wish was heard,
- Desire unspeakably to be a bird?
|
"To an Oriole" is reprinted
from The Little Book of American Poets: 1787-1900. Ed.
Jessie B. Rittenhouse. Cambridge: Riverside Press, 1915. |
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POEMS BY EDGAR FAWCETT |
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