Baby-Bird

A poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne

Baby-bird, baby-bird,
Ne'er a song on earth
May be heard, may be heard,
Rich as yours in mirth.
All your flickering fingers,
All your twinkling toes,
Play like light that lingers
Till the clear song close.
Baby-bird, baby-bird,
Your grave majestic eyes
Like a bird's warbled words
Speak, and sorrow dies.
Sorrow dies for love's sake,
Love grows one with mirth,
Even for one white dove's sake,
Born a babe on earth.
Baby-bird, baby-bird,
Chirping loud and long,
Other birds hush their words,
Hearkening toward your song.
Sweet as spring though it ring,
Full of love's own lures,
Weak and wrong sounds their song,
Singing after yours.
Baby-bird, baby-bird,
The happy heart that hears
Seems to win back within
Heaven, and cast out fears.
Earth and sun seem as one
Sweet light and one sweet word
Known of none here but one,
Known of one sweet bird.

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