64442: The Voice of Beauty Drowned

<p dir="ltr"> Cry from the thicket my heart's bird!<br> The other birds woke all around,<br> Rising with toot and howl they stirred<br> Their plumage, broke the trembling sound,<br> They craned their necks, they fluttered wings,<br> 'While we are silent no one sings,<br> And while we sing you hush your throat,<br> Or tune your melody to our note.'<br> Cry from the thicket my heart's bird!<br> The screams and hootings rose again:<br> They gaped with raucous beaks, they whirred<br> Their noisy plumage; small but plain<br> The lonely hidden singer made<br> A well of grief within the glade.<br> 'Whist, silly fool, be off,' they shout,<br> 'Or we'll come pluck your feathers out.'<br> Cry from the thicket my heart's bird!<br> Slight and small the lovely cry<br> Came trickling down, but no one heard.<br> Parrot and cuckoo, crow, magpie<br> Jarred horrid notes, the jangling jay<br> Ripped the fine threads of song away,<br> For why should peeping chick aspire<br> To challenge their loud woodland choir?<br> Cried it so sweet that unseen bird?<br> Lovelier could no music be,<br> Clearer than water, soft as curd,<br> Fresh as the blossomed cherry tree.<br> How sang the others all around?<br> Piercing and harsh, a maddening sound,<br> With Pretty Poll, tuwit-tu-woo,<br> Peewit, caw caw, cuckoo-cuckoo.</p>