PINK-FOOTED, sleekly white, or delicate fawn,
Or darklier-plumed, with glossy throat where clings
One soft perpetual ripple of rainbow rings,
How often to your beauty our sight is drawn
When back from roamings wide you suddenly dawn,
A lovely turbulence of quick-fluttered wings,
Alighting on some brown slanted roof like spring’s
Pale showers of blossoms on an orchard lawn!
Our common barn-yard life, plain, stolid, rude,
You haunt with tender purity sweet to note;
And gladden its dullness with your buoyant throng,
In many a smooth and mellow interlude
Through homelier sound serenely letting float
Your strange luxurious monotones of song!
Edgar Fawcett.