Zazie Blake - Thrush Song

I leant upon a coppice gate
When Frost was spectre-grey
And Winter's dregs made desolate
The weakening eye of day
The tangled bine-stems scored the sky like strings of broken lyres
And all mankind that haunted nigh
Had sought their household fires

At once a voice arose among
The bleak twigs overhead
In a full-hearted evensong
Of joy illimited
An aged thrush, frail, gaunt, and small, in blast-beruffled plume
Had chosen thus to fling his soul
Upon the growing gloom

So little cause for carolings
Of such ecstatic sound
Was written on terrestrial things
Afar or nigh around
That I could think there trembled through his happy good-night air
Some blessed Hope, whereof he knew
And I was unaware

Written by:
Thomas Hardy

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

Lyrics powered by Lyric Find