| |
|
Beautiful robin! with thy feathers red
Contrasting sweetly with the soft green tree,
Making thy little flights as thou art led
By things that tempt a simple one like thee--
I would that thou couldst warble me to tears
As lightly as the birds of other years.
Idly to lie beneath an April sun,
Pressing the perfume from the tender grass;
To watch a joyous rivulet leap on
With the clear tinkle of a music glass,
And as I saw the early robin pass,
To hear him thro' his little compass run--
Hath been a joy that I shall no more know
Before I to my better portion go.
This poem is in the public domain.
|
Nathaniel Parker Willis (1806 - 1867) was born in Maine to a family of writers and publishers. He began publishing his poetry while attending Yale and, soon after graduation, launched a magazine. Working as an editor and freelance writer, Nathaniel spent several years in Europe before returning to live in New York, writing and developing friendships with leading authors of the time, including Charles Dickens, Edgar Allan Poe, and Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. At one point, he was the highest paid magazine writer in America. Nathanial married several times, endured the loss of two children, and suffered from epilepsy in his later years. A large man and dapper dresser, he was generally regarded as good-natured and well-respected.
|
|
|
There are no comments for this poem yet.
|
|
|
My Cart 
