NELLY HART WOODWORTH.
Does the thrush drink wild honey? a nectar distilled
From the flowers of the field, that his message is filled
With such sweetness? O'er the twilight 'tis ringing—
June's divinest refrain, 'tis a soul that is singing,
Oh, so trustfully sweet, rapture blended with pain,
Rings the silver bell softly, I hear it again,
And the wood is enchanted, uncertain it seems,
As some moment of waking, the dreams, oh the dreams!
Does he bathe evermore in the miracle springs,