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I’ve plucked the berry from the bush, the brown nut from the tree,
But heart of happy little bird ne’er broken was by me.
I saw them in their curious nests, close couching, slyly peer
With their wild eyes, like glittering beads, to note if harm were near;
I passed them by, and blessed them all; I felt that it was good
To leave unmoved the creatures small whose home was in the wood.
And here, even now, above my head, a lusty rogue doth sing;
He pecks his swelling breast and neck, and trims his little wing.
He will not fly; he knows full well, while chirping on that spray,
I would not harm him for a world, or interrupt his lay.
Sing on, sing on, blithe bird! and fill my heart with summer gladness;
It has been aching many a day with measures full of sadness!
( William Motherwell )
William Motherwell (1797-1835), a Scotch poet and journalist, was born in Glasgow, where he lived and died. In 1830 he became editor of the Glasgow Courier. He wrote a volume of local ballads, and many of his poems were published in the magazines and newspapers.
plucked : picked
blithe : happy spirit
Answer the following questions.
1) What does the poet compare the eyes of birds to?
2) Why is the bird not afraid of the poet?
3) How do we know the birds know their friends?
4) What happiness does the poet get because of his kindness to the birds?
5) Do you like this poem? Why or why not?