Verse > Anthologies > William Stanley Braithwaite, ed. > The Book of Georgian Verse
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William Stanley Braithwaite, ed.  The Book of Georgian Verse.  1909.
 
The Green Linnet
By William Wordsworth (1770–1850)
 
BENEATH these fruit-tree boughs that shed
Their snow-white blossoms on my head,
With brightest sunshine round me spread
  Of spring’s unclouded weather,
In this sequestered nook how sweet        5
To sit upon my orchard-seat!
And birds and flowers once more to greet,
  My last year’s friends together.
 
Once have I marked, the happiest guest
In all this covert of the blest:        10
Hail to Thee, far above the rest
  In joy of voice and pinion!
Thou, Linnet! in thy green array,
Presiding Spirit here to-day,
Dost lead the revels of the May;        15
  And this is thy dominion.
 
While birds, and butterflies, and flowers
Make all one band of paramours,
Thou, ranging up and down the bowers,
  Art sole in thy employment:        20
A Life, a Presence like the Air,
Scattering thy gladness without care,
Too blest with any one to pair;
  Thyself thy own enjoyment.
 
Upon yon tuft of hazel trees,        25
That twinkle to the gusty breeze,
Behold him perched in ecstasies,
  Yet seeming still to hover;
There! where the flutter of his wings
Upon his back and body flings        30
Shadows and sunny glimmerings,
  That cover him all over.
 
My dazzled sight he oft deceives,
A Brother of the dancing leaves:
Then flits, and from the cottage-eaves        35
  Pours forth his song in gushes;
As if by that exulting strain
He mocked and treated with disdain
The voiceless Form he chose to feign,
  While fluttering in the bushes.        40
 
 
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