A dove went up, and struck the air
Impatiently with all her wing;
I said, “O bird thy journeying
Is like the flight of thought. But where,
“In all the regions of the sky,
When weary, and you wish to roam
No longer, do you find a home?”
And meekly did the dove reply—
“I own no fancy; I am free,
And, shooting through the yielding air,
I look and find that all is fair,
And beautiful and sweet to me.
“And wish, when tired, no sweeter rest
Than drooping down with folded wing
Within a wood whose shadows cling
Across the river’s dreaming breast.”
“Well said, O bird, whose days are rife
With all the peace of rest and love,
And linked to quiet things that move
Around the orb of poet-life.”
(Alexander Anderson)
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Based on Topics: Love Poems, Mind Poems, War & Peace Poems, Fairness Poems, Hope Poems, Thought & Thinking Poems, Home Poems, Birds PoemsBased on Keywords: impatiently, reply-, poet-life