Thomas Bailey Aldrich

No bird has ever uttered note That was not in some first bird's throat; Since Eden's freshness and man's read more

No bird has ever uttered note That was not in some first bird's throat; Since Eden's freshness and man's fall No rose has been original.

Have you not heard the poets tell
How came the dainty Baby Bell
Into this world of read more

Have you not heard the poets tell
How came the dainty Baby Bell
Into this world of ours?

Night is a stealthy, evil Raven,
Wrapt to the eyes in his black wings.

Night is a stealthy, evil Raven,
Wrapt to the eyes in his black wings.

When I behold what pleasure is Pursuit,
What life, what glorious eagerness it is,
Then mark how read more

When I behold what pleasure is Pursuit,
What life, what glorious eagerness it is,
Then mark how full Possession falls from this,
How fairer seems the blossom than the fruit,--
I am perplext, and often stricken mute.
Wondering which attained the higher bliss,
The wing'd insect, or the chrysalis
It thrust aside with unreluctant foot.

I like not lady-slippers,
Not yet the sweet-pea blossoms,
Not yet the flaky roses,
read more

I like not lady-slippers,
Not yet the sweet-pea blossoms,
Not yet the flaky roses,
Red or white as snow;
I like the chaliced lilies,
The heavy Eastern lilies,
The gorgeous tiger-lilies,
That in our garden grow.