Thomas Bailey Aldrich

No bird has ever uttered note That was not in some first bird's throat; Since Eden's freshness and man's read more

No bird has ever uttered note That was not in some first bird's throat; Since Eden's freshness and man's fall No rose has been original.

Only the sea intoning,
Only the wainscot-mouse,
Only the wild wind moaning
Over the read more

Only the sea intoning,
Only the wainscot-mouse,
Only the wild wind moaning
Over the lonely house.

Night is a stealthy, evil Raven,
Wrapt to the eyes in his black wings.

Night is a stealthy, evil Raven,
Wrapt to the eyes in his black wings.

When I behold what pleasure is Pursuit,
What life, what glorious eagerness it is,
Then mark how read more

When I behold what pleasure is Pursuit,
What life, what glorious eagerness it is,
Then mark how full Possession falls from this,
How fairer seems the blossom than the fruit,--
I am perplext, and often stricken mute.
Wondering which attained the higher bliss,
The wing'd insect, or the chrysalis
It thrust aside with unreluctant foot.

But when the sun in all his state,
Illumed the eastern skies,
She passed through glory's morning read more

But when the sun in all his state,
Illumed the eastern skies,
She passed through glory's morning gate,
And walked in Paradise.