James Thomson (1)

The Redbreast, sacred to the household gods,
Wisely regardful of the embroiling sky,
In joyless fields and read more

The Redbreast, sacred to the household gods,
Wisely regardful of the embroiling sky,
In joyless fields and thorny thickets leaves
His shivering mates, and pays to trusted Man
His annual visit.

The Clouds consign their treasures to the fields;
And, softly shaking on the dimpled pool
Prelusive drops, read more

The Clouds consign their treasures to the fields;
And, softly shaking on the dimpled pool
Prelusive drops, let all their moisture flow
In large effusion, o'er the freshen'd world.

Among the crooked lanes, on every hedge,
The glow-worm lights his gem; and through the dark,
A read more

Among the crooked lanes, on every hedge,
The glow-worm lights his gem; and through the dark,
A moving radiance twinkles.

For nothing human foreign was to him.

For nothing human foreign was to him.

He ceased; but still their trembling ears retained
The deep vibrations of his witching song.

He ceased; but still their trembling ears retained
The deep vibrations of his witching song.