The Birds

He. Where thou dwellest, in what grove,
Tell me Fair One, tell me Love;
Where thou thy charming nest dost build,
O thou pride of every field!
She. Yonder stands a lonely tree,
There I live and mourn for thee;
Morning drinks my silent tear,
And evening winds my sorrow bear.

He. O thou summer's harmony,
I have liv'd and mourn'd for thee;
Each day I mourn along the wood,
And night hath heard my sorrows loud.

She. Dost thou truly long for me?
And am I thus sweet to thee?
Sorrow now is at an end,
O my Lover and my Friend!

He. Come, on wings of joy we'll fly
To where my bower hangs on high;
Come, and make thy calm retreat
Among green leaves and blossoms sweet.

by William Blake

Comments (8)

When was it made?
Nice one, just like my poem LAST DAYS OF MY DIRGE
Morning drinks my silent tear, And evening winds my sorrow bear. Simply superb expressions.
awsome! excellent. how lirical
A pretty enough little poem but far from Blake's most stunning and timeless pieces. What is notable is the shitty orthography available in the publication space of and the sloppiness of presentation demonstrated with this poem. The He and She should be pulled out in the margin like dramatic instruction, not enjambed into the stanzas. And how about a proper line break between the first and second stanza. Just shoddy work on the part of the admins here.
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