ENTANGLED.
BIRDS among the budding trees,
Blossoms on the ringing ground:
Light from those? or song from these?
Can the tangle be unwound?
Blossoms on the ringing ground:
Light from those? or song from these?
Can the tangle be unwound?
For the bluebird's warbled note,
Violet-odors hither flung;
And the violet curved her throat,
Just as if she sat and sung.
Violet-odors hither flung;
And the violet curved her throat,
Just as if she sat and sung.
Dandelions dressed in gold,
Give out echoes clear and loud,
To the oriole's story, told
With gay poise and gesture proud.
Give out echoes clear and loud,
To the oriole's story, told
With gay poise and gesture proud.
And the swaying yellow-bird,
Trilling, thrills their hollow stems,
Trilling, thrills their hollow stems,
