In Pursuit of Spring

by Edward Thomas

For joy of the beating of wings on high

My heart shot into the breast of a bird.

“I hear it now and I see it fly,

And a life in wrinkles again is stirred,

My heart shoots into the breast of a bird,

As it will for sheer love till the last long sigh.”

What his “Juggling Jerry” said briefly—

“Yonder came smells of the gorse, so nutty,

Gold-like, and warm: it’s the prime of May.

Better than mortar, brick, and putty