That
blackbirds music from the hazel bower
Turns into
golden drops this summer shower
To think the
rain that wets his sutty wing
Should wake
the gushes of his soul to sing
Hark at the
melody how rich and loud
Like daylight
breaking through the morning cloud
How luscious through that sea of
green it floats
Knowest thou
of music breathed from sweeter notes
Than that wild
minstrel of the summer shower
Breathes at
this moment from that hazel bower
To me the
anthem of a thousand tongues
Were poor and
idle to the simple songs
To that high
toned and edifying bird
That sings to
nature by itself unheard.
John
Clare’s Birds
ed. Eric Robinson & Richard
Fitter
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