Poem by Margaret Steele Anderson (1861-1921)



From yonder hedge, from yonder spray,
He calls me onward and away;
Broad lies the world and fair to see,
The cuckoo calls, is calling me!


I have not seen nor heard of Care,
Who used my very bed to share,
Since that first morn when, airily,
The cuckoo, calling, called to me!


My sweetheart's face? I have forgot;
My mother? But she calls me not;
From that green bank, from that dim lea,
The cuckoo calls, is calling me!


And I must go, I may not choose;
No gain there is, nor aught to lose;
And soon, ah, soon!, on some wild tree
The bird sits long and waits for me!



More information on Margaret Steele Anderson

Poetry by Editorial Team The PoetBay support member heart!
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Written on 2021-07-12 at 00:00

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Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Well, now, that one's a little peculiar.

The cuckoo calls; I coo response
with no degree of nonchalance
and venture gladly to his seat
to share some cookies; what a treat!

Thank-coos, Team :>)