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قراءة كتاب Out of the North
تنويه: تعرض هنا نبذة من اول ١٠ صفحات فقط من الكتاب الالكتروني، لقراءة الكتاب كاملا اضغط على الزر “اشتر الآن"
اللغة: English
الصفحة رقم: 7
of Birds
Haste, little songsters, and return
To your nests in the silent wood;
The birches are lonely and they yearn
For your twittering brotherhood.
The leaves are green on the wakened trees
And the snow has left the moss;
The sighing breeze
With its symphonies
Suggests our greatest loss—
Haste, little birds, haste home!
To your nests in the silent wood;
The birches are lonely and they yearn
For your twittering brotherhood.
The leaves are green on the wakened trees
And the snow has left the moss;
The sighing breeze
With its symphonies
Suggests our greatest loss—
Haste, little birds, haste home!
Haste little songsters, for the Spring
Has come with her laughing train
Of radiant blossoms; and now the King
Is here, and the pattering rain.
The nights are warm and the days are long,
There is no more ice or frost;
And oh! we long
For a songbird's song,
For a music the woods have lost—
Haste, little birds, haste home!
Has come with her laughing train
Of radiant blossoms; and now the King
Is here, and the pattering rain.
The nights are warm and the days are long,
There is no more ice or frost;
And oh! we long
For a songbird's song,
For a music the woods have lost—
Haste, little birds, haste home!
The Forest Cotillion
When the wind is joyous-hearted it stirs the graceful spruces,
And they nod at one another and toss their arms in abandon;
Then they sway their supple bodies in wonderful undulations,
Keeping a perfect time with the wind's mysterious music.
And they nod at one another and toss their arms in abandon;
Then they sway their supple bodies in wonderful undulations,
Keeping a perfect time with the wind's mysterious music.
Then the watchmen of the forest, the solemn and silent birches,
Bend stiffly their stately heads, saluting their laughing sisters;
And the alders wake from slumber, and the willows grieve no longer
When the wild wind woos the stream and sets the trees a-dancing.
Bend stiffly their stately heads, saluting their laughing sisters;
And the alders wake from slumber, and the willows grieve no longer
When the wild wind woos the stream and sets the trees a-dancing.
The Spruces of the Forest
Unhappy trees, beneath whose graceful branches
No lovers walk, no children ever play;
Who never hear the sound of girlish laughter,
But pass in gloom your silent lives away;
I wonder if ye heed me as I press
My heart to yours in utter loneliness.
No lovers walk, no children ever play;
Who never hear the sound of girlish laughter,
But pass in gloom your silent lives away;
I wonder if ye heed me as I press
My heart to yours in utter loneliness.
I wonder if ye see me as I wander
Along the trail no feet but mine e'er tread;
I wonder if ye hear me when I murmur
The name of one who might as well be dead
So far away, so very far is she—
I wonder if ye heed and pity me?
Along the trail no feet but mine e'er tread;
I wonder if ye hear me when I murmur
The name of one who might as well be dead
So far away, so very far is she—
I wonder if ye heed and pity me?
The Wild Lover
Sway your lithe arms, ye graceful trees,
The wind is out a-wooing!
Ye may be many, yet he sees
A way to your undoing.
The wind is out a-wooing!
Ye may be many, yet he sees
A way to your undoing.
Ye need not fear,
Though birds may hear
Your whispers or your sighs;
Or tell the night
Of your delight—
Though birds may hear
Your whispers or your sighs;
Or tell the night
Of your delight—