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Poem by Bliss Carman


The Rainbird


I hear a rainbird singing
Far off. How fine and clear
His plaintive voice comes ringing
With rapture to the ear!

Over the misty wood-lots,
Across the first spring heat,
Comes the enchanted cadence,
So clear, so solemn-sweet.

How often I have hearkened
To that high pealing strain
Across wild cedar barrens,
Under the soft gray rain!

How often I have wondered,
And longed in vain to know
The source of that enchantment,
That touch of human woe!

O brother, who first taught thee
To haunt the teeming spring
With that sad mortal wisdom
Which only age can bring?



Bliss Carman


Bliss Carman's other poems:
  1. Dust of the Street
  2. In Gold Lacquer
  3. Threnody for a Poet
  4. Behind the Arras
  5. Triumphalis


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