Martins
by WALTER DE LA MARE
“Chelidon urbica urbica!”
I cried on the little bird,
Meticulously enunciating each syllable of each word,
“Chelidon urbica urbica!
Listen to me, I plead;
The swallows are snug in the hayloft,
Here’s all that your nestlings can need —
Shelter and shadow and water and sunshine —
Come, build in my eaves, and breed!”
I cried on the little bird,
Meticulously enunciating each syllable of each word,
“Chelidon urbica urbica!
Listen to me, I plead;
The swallows are snug in the hayloft,
Here’s all that your nestlings can need —
Shelter and shadow and water and sunshine —
Come, build in my eaves, and breed!”
Fly high, my love; my love, fly low!
I watched the sweet pretty creatures go
Floating, skimming and wheeling, so
Swiftly and softly, like flakes of snow,
’Gainst the dark of the cedar-boughs, to and fro:
But no!
But no!
I watched the sweet pretty creatures go
Floating, skimming and wheeling, so
Swiftly and softly, like flakes of snow,
’Gainst the dark of the cedar-boughs, to and fro:
But no!
But no!
‘Chelidon urbica urbica!”
None paid me the faintest heed!
None paid me the faintest heed!