Tuam Herald 13th May, 1848 p.4
Photo: Aviceda
Wikimedia Commons
A Cuckoo shoots across my path,
Well pleased I mark its arrowy flight,
And see it reach the neighbouring rath,
And on an aged thorn alight.
In haste I turn my dexter car,
To catch the luck-portending sound;
And fancy, as those notes I hear,
‘Tis fairy music from yea mound.
Such airy, softly plaintive tones,
Did echo breath, with love forlorn,
While pining to a shade, her moans,
Were on the mountain breezes borne.
On such soft notes mine ear has hung
At dewy eve – soul-soothing hour!
When haply viewless Bards have strung
Their harp AEolian near my bower.
Mysterious bird! where has thou been
Since last I heard thy mellow cooing?
Say in what far distant scene
Hast thou been the echo wooing?
Didst thou to Grecian nations rove
Fair lands of arts and posey
To woo the secrets of the dove,
That keeps the Delphic mystery?
Or Egypt has thou visited,
Cradle of mythologic lore;
And from her lovely Pyramid
Thy lonely descent didst thou pour?
Or far as Araby, the best
Did thy unwearied wing aspire,
To see the Phoenix on her next,
Kindle the renovating fire?
Or has thy winter all been given
To slumber, in some mossy cell:
One of the feathered sleepers, seven,
Entranced, as if by magic spell?
I hail thee Phoenix of our year!
For at thy coming nature’s womb
Revives, and all her charms appear
Arrayed in renovated bloom.
I hail thee o’er the woodland ranging,
Chasing thy mate from tree to tree:
And with thy mellow pipe unchanging,
Swelling the Sylvan minstrelsy
