Starling

Item

Starling

The starling in the ivy now,

For to amuse his dear,

Mimics the dog, the cat, the cow,

Blackbird and Chanticleer.

The starling's an accomplished mime:

Between his love-making

He solaces her brooding-time

By many a madcap thing.

He is the saw, the spade, the scythe,

He rings the dinner bell;

Chuckles of laughter, small and blithe,

Of self-laudations tell.

Now by the battle-field he mocks

As though 'twere but a game,

Thunder with which the belfry rocks

And the great bursts of flame.

Till when the merriment will pall

He turns to love again,

Calling his love-sick gurgling call

Above the dying men.

Who knows what dream the starling weaves

Of boyhood, soft and clean?

A small room under golden eaves

To which the sun looks in.

The starling's talking in the thatch,

Bidding the boy arise;

And the door's opening on the latch

To show -- his mother's eyes.

Title
Starling
Identifier
greatwar_holywar015
Item sets
The Holy War
Media
<html xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><body><h1 align="center" class="head">Starling</h1><div class="stanza"><p class="line"><span class="smallcaps">The</span> starling in the ivy now,</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">For to amuse his dear,</p><p class="line">Mimics the dog, the cat, the cow,</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">Blackbird and Chanticleer.</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">The starling's an accomplished mime:</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">Between his love-making</p><p class="line">He solaces her brooding-time</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">By many a madcap thing.</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">He is the saw, the spade, the scythe,</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">He rings the dinner bell;</p><p class="line">Chuckles of laughter, small and blithe,</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">Of self-laudations tell.</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">Now by the battle-field he mocks</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">As though 'twere but a game,</p><p class="line">Thunder with which the belfry rocks</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">And the great bursts of flame.</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">Till when the merriment will pall</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">He turns to love again,</p><p class="line">Calling his love-sick gurgling call</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">Above the dying men.</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">Who knows what dream the starling weaves</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">Of boyhood, soft and clean?</p><p class="line">A small room under golden eaves</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">To which the sun looks in.</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">The starling's talking in the thatch,</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">Bidding the boy arise;</p><p class="line">And the door's opening on the latch</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">To show -- his mother's eyes.</p></div></body></html>