Poems (Browning)/Story of a Spring Morning

by Eunice Browning

A nest lies hidden, Wrought with hours of love.

Story of a Spring Morning

As some wild floweret Placed in costly halls,Blooms oversweet an hour, Then fades and falls,

Thus fleets a vision, Youth so vainly won;But after dews of morn, Youth's dream has gone.

The rose is sweetest When half promising;The heart is lightest in The dream of spring.

At morning twilight, Starry-eyed and free,Fair Beauty tells each flower Her rosary.

And when the sunlight Bids the fields awake,A thousand scented dreams The flowers unshake.

Each flower awakened Showers a blessing fair,And every sweetness wafts Upon the air.

Sometimes a wild bird, Startled from her nest,In darting, upward flight Wends her swift course—

Then dropping lightly, Borne by eager wings,Atilt the bending grass, She rocks and sings.

Or swiftly running, Bonded spirit free,Her haunting cry trills out Its harmony.

And all the rapture Given vent at last,Floats out untouched and pure, And unsurpassed.

A truth unstudied, Past our feeble art;Like fleeting dreams, her songs Rise from the heart.

O world of springtime! Youth, Love sings to thee,Delirious with joy, And ecstasy.

A nest lies hidden, Wrought with hours of love;With woven straw beneath, And sky above.

In downy comfort Strife has ready bent,'Midst angry pluck and chirp, And discontent,

And low complaining, Featherless and gaunt,The wee things gaping plead Incessant want.

Small crime! injustice! See the widest bill,The mother at the nest Her charge refill,

While some poor nestling Smaller than the rest,Who pipes too low, is left Half supperless.

When skies bend earthward With the weight of June,And all the feathered kingdom Trills in tune,

Then at the nest edge, Preening wings with care,The little songsters chirp And flutter there.

The whole world beckons Through a rainbow sheen;With dewy clouds above The fields of green.

While earth still glistens Tremulous with morn,Then in each fledgling's breast Desire is born.

Small hearts are beating, Wearied of the nest,The unknown sounds its call, The limitless.

Forth from the nest edge At the break of day,With wings outspread in flight— Away!