Thomas Cowherd

(March 20, 1817 – April 4, 1907 / England)

To The Humming Bird - Poem by Thomas Cowherd

Hail to thee, Humming Bird
Beauteous and bright,
That flitt'st like a spirit
Before my rapt sight!
I bid thee a welcome
To sip from my flowers
The rich, honied produce
Of sunshiny hours.

O, be not so easily
Moved to depart!
Thy presence is cheering
To my saddened heart.
Thine shall be the treasures
Of clove-currant trees
And bells of the Columbine
Prized by the Bees.

My odorous tulips
I will with thee share,
Nor grudge thee the blossoms
Of apple or pear.
The sweet-scented woodbine
I shall not withhold,
Nor rare perfumed lilies,
Like pure burnished gold.

O then, pretty Humming Bird,
Stay thou with me,
Midst bright blushing roses
So charming to see.
I'll hail thee at morning
Or woo thee at noon-
Thy presence at all times
Regard as a boon.

Then why be so anxious
My garden to leave?
Know'st thou that I never
Attempt to deceive?
I would not confine thee
In cage if I could:
I glory in Freedom-
The best earthly good.

Then, Humming Bird, listen
My earnest appeal;
The love I have for thee
I cannot conceal.
My children, too, love thee,
My wife does the same,
And I am in transports
At sound of thy name.

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Poem Submitted: Thursday, April 26, 2012



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