William Stanley Braithwaite, ed. (1878–1962). Anthology of Massachusetts Poets. 1922.
The Voice in the Song
H
Hid by the branches in bridal array,
Straight from his heart, all his life in his singing,
Chants a wee bird, lures his mate with his lay.
“Sweet, sweet, my sweet,
Hear I entreat!
Say, love, together, this bright sunny weather,
Gold of the west we shall weave in a nest!
Have no fear! Trust me, dear!
Sunshine of May that will gild every day
Pledge I to thee if thou’lt harken to me.”
Quivering in answer to all the bird sings,
Warm on a breath, leaps a soul with love gleaming,
Speeds to its mate on its glittering wings.
“Dear, on thy breast
Earth yields its best!
Loud in the singing I heard thy call ringing,
Pleading and strong in the voice of the song,
Whisper low,—Yes, just so!—
Softly revealing the depth of thy feeling,
Words in whose fire glow thy love and desire.”