Annie Adams Fields Poems

CAN you hear the sparrow in the lane
Singing above the graves? she said.
He knows my gladness, he knows my pain,
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To -----
LATE bird, who singest now alone
When woods are silent and the sea
Breathes heavily and makes a moan,
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TWINE the wild olive, twine!
And hasten, maidens, while the dayspring calls,
For when the sun is high
The leaflet droops and falls.
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ALL summer long the cricket sings,
But in June the busy birds,
Proud as youth, on their young wings
Sing above the lowing herds;
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Holy silence of Thanksgiving!
With the presence of the living,
With the peace the season takes,
Falling with the falling snowflakes,
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WILD bird flying northward, whither thou?
And vessel bending southward, what thy quest?
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WOULDST thou walk in the garden of fame,
Wouldst thou taste of the fruits that grow
In alleys where grapes hang low,
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IF Poesy thou dost love, and seek to guess
The shadowy coverts where her footsteps roam,
Easy they seem and common; yet how rare!
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TREES, the green trees, rocks, and the wave-washed sands,
You are all here! while, like the summer birds,
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SLOWLY, with day's dying fall,
And with many a solemn sound,
Slowly from the Athenian wall
The long procession wound.
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