Classic Poem

O SILVER bird, fly down, fly down,
Bring thy fair gifts to him and me:
A purse contains a minted crown,
A golden ring for me.
Ah! lovely bird, fly down, fly down.

But upon the highest bough
See amid the leaves he swings,
Pipes three notes of laughter low,
Flirts, and folds his flashy wings.
Ah! lovely bird, fly down, fly down.

What is't, bird, thy soul demands?
Come, I'll rock thee in my breast;
I will stroke thee with my hands;
Where none rested thou shalt rest. . . .
Ah! lovely bird, fly down, fly down.

Jewels wouldst thou, then, O bird?
See, among the sunny grass
A tear has fallen unseen, unheard,
Brighter than ever diamond was.

Hark! Hark! His joy my voice doth drown:
See, see, he leaps, floats, dives him down!