Bird and the Oak, The

Mossy and gray in the sombre wood, Crowned by the Summer, the old oak stood, And a murmur of happy song went through His green leaves fresh in the morning dew; For a bird came there, with her purple crest, Of the birds of the Summer the sweetest and best, And the joy of her presence his deep heart filled ‘Till his utmost limbs with that life were thrilled. You might see the gray moss sweep his breast, But it veiled the bird on her downy nest; And you only knew what a bliss was there By the joyous throb of the song-filled air! When the musical chatter of thrush and wren, And blithe, bobolink, bubbled over the glen, Her hush was more sweet than their song, as she prest To the rugged trunk the warm down of her breast. When stars dropped over the whispering leaves, Light’s golden grain from its gathered sheaves, And the voice of the far revel faintly was heard, Closer she nestled, that beautiful bird; The Druid heart of the gray old oak Quivered for joy, ‘till the foliage shook, And over his rustling beard a hum Of “I love,” and “I love thee,” did softly come! But a cruel frost from the north came down, And the oak’s green life fell sere and brown; The withered mosses clung round his trunk, And moaned as the chill winds rose and sunk. All the long winter he tossed his boughs To the nipping air and the muffling snows, And the poor deserted nest was bare, Or a withered leaf lay in mockery there! If the beautiful bird from her nest had flown, Could the cawing of hungry rocks atone? They only deepened the lonliness That moaned through the old oak’s dumb distress. Come back to your shelter, O splendid bird! The heart of the oak with new summer is stirred: She comes in her beauty, she nestles warm In the long gray moss from the passing storm. Come out, green leaves, with a happy thrill, And dance for the joy of a vanished ill! They come! they flutter! and, growing strong, Translate the winds into living song! Hidden away in that downy nest Is the glorious bird by new leaves caressed, And the Druid oak, to its inmost core, Is thrilled with the gladness it knew before!