The Crows: A Child Poem
What a famous noise there was1
In the morning when I rose !2
All the air was hoarse with ‘ Caws,’3
And the sky was black with crows.4
Hundreds circling round the trees5
Swooped down on a last year’s nest,6
Rose and scattered then like bees,7
Swarmed again and could not rest ;8
Cawing, cawing all the time,9
Till it grew to one great voice,10
And you could not hear the chime11
Of the school-clock for the noise.12
Every garden-bush has heard13
Through its tiny twigs and shoots,14
And the trees have all been stirred15
Right down to their very roots.16
Buds of green on branch and stem17
Glisten in the morning sun,18
For the Crows have wakened them,19
And they open one by one.20
Last night on the hillside lay21
One white patch from Winter’s snows ;22
Now it’s melted clean away23
With the cawing of the Crows.24
And a primrose, too, has heard,25
Peeping out to nod and talk26
From the hedge-roots to a bird27
Hopping down the garden walk.28
What a famous noise it was29
To make the very bushes hear,30
And birds and flowers and things—because31
The merry time of Spring is near !32