The Green Linnet

Beneath these fruit-tree boughs that shedTheir snow-white blossoms on my head,With brightest sunshine round me spreadOf spring's unclouded weather,In this sequestered nook how sweetTo sit upon my Orchard-seat!And Flowers and Birds once more to greet,My last year's Friends together.

One have I marked, the happiest GuestIn all this covert of the blest:Hail to Thee, far above the restIn joy of voice and pinion,Thou, Linnet! in thy green array,Presiding Spirit here to-day,Dost lead the revels of the May,And this is thy dominion.

While Birds, and Butterflies, and FlowersMake all one Band of Paramours,Thou, ranging up and down the bowers,Art sole in thy employment;A Life, a Presence like the Air,Scattering thy gladness without care,Too bless'd with any one to pair,Thyself thy own enjoyment.

Upon yon tuft of hazel trees,That twinkle to the gusty breeze,Behold him perched in ecstasies,Yet seeming still to hover;There! where the flutter of his wingsUpon his back and body flingsShadows and sunny glimmerings,That cover him all over.

While thus before my eyes he gleams,A Brother of the Leaves he seems;When in a moment forth he teemsHis little song in gushes:As if it pleased him to disdainAnd mock the Form which he did feign,While he was dancing with the trainOf Leaves among the bushes.