The Poet and The Statue

If I, as bird, did fly around your waterfall
Of silver-shining hair to see your twinkling eyes
And stopped, a-hover there, so much amazed with all
The wrink’less beauty of a splendid lover, oh,
Would I not sing such piercing songs into the skies
That gath’ring clouds would get them fast and far away,
And winds, that moved so dull before, would blow and blow,
And fill with big bloom odors all the wilding air
Until you breathed, and turned, and stretched like bursting May!?
Then awed I’d sit a waving branch and watch you there,
Like ship upon the waters, up and down, in bliss
To sight the isle of happiness for which it’s bound.
And now, with flutt’ring pulse for perfect, twirling ground,
I ‘magine me a bee to buzz your lips and kiss!
Oh, what’s a better power than poet’s power like this?

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