From the Green Book of the Bards

by Bliss Carman


 

FIRST CROAK


 

Northward, crow,
Croak and fly!
Tell her I
Long to go,—

Only am

5

Satisfied
Where the wide
Maples flame,

Over those
Hills of fir,

10
Flooding her
Morning snows.

Thou shalt see
Break and sing
Days of spring,

15

Dawning free.

Northward, crow,
Croak and fly,—
Strive, or die
Striving so!

20


Darker hearts,
We, than some
Who shall come
When spring starts.

Well I see,

25

You and I
By and by
Shall get free.

Only now,
Beat away

30

As we may
Best know how!

Never soar
We, nor float;
But one note,

35

And no more.

Northward, crow,
Croak and fly!
Would that I
Too might go!

40

Lark or thrush
Someday, you
Up the blue
Cleave the hush.

O the joy

45

Then you feel,
Who shall steal
Or destroy?

Have not I
Known how good,

50

Field and wood,
Stream and sky?—

Longed to free
Soul in flight,
Night by night,

55

Tree to tree?

Northward, crow,
Croak and fly
You and I,—
Striving, go.

60


Still though fail
Singing, keep
Croaking deep
Strong and hale!

Flying straight,

65

Soon we go
Where the snow
Tarries late.

Yet the spring
Is—how sweet!

70

Hark that beat;
Goldenwing!

Good for all
Faint of heart,
What a start

75

In his call!

Northward, crow,
Croak and fly,
Though the sky
Thunder No!

80