The Bird-Boy.
The corn’s spiked gold round the sheep in the fold1
Presses with fostering care ;2
Now the rose is dead, and the May-bloom’s shed,3
And the lily-bloom’s melted to air.4
The birds flock up, like flies from a cup,5
In a thick swarm, noisy and black :6
How the great rooks rise
when the bird-boy plies7
His clicky, clacky—click, clack, clack.8
For miles away, the poppies at play9
Flutter their signal flags ;10
Round their white ash ring, the trampers sing,11
Sunning their patches and rags.12
And up in the blue, where clouds are few,13
Noisy and scattering black,14
The rook-cloud flies
when the bird-boy plies15
His clicky, clacky—click, clack, clack.16