A solitary wren upon a bough Above my head began to sing for me. He looked so deeply in my eyes I thought Is this a bird or a departed soul Come back to visit at the dusk of day? This wonder of speckled brown that sweetly trilled Invited me in turn to make reply. Thanking him for his gifts I sang to him A poorer imitation of his song And back and forth in the slowly fading light Our music echoed across the silent lake. Then suddenly another voice began And turning around my friend began to sing To his fair love the tune he sang for me.
Poems Undated (1727)
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Narad
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