Cuckoo-flower by Avon’s brim,
Muskrose rich, or eglantine,
Saith nor more nor less to him
Than arbutus softly saith
With its blush and with its breath.
Nightingale in Attic wood
Is no deeper understood
Than our bent-browed mocker gray,
With his bright eye cool and clear,
Sad and tender, wild and gay,