To the Wood Thrush 



William P. Alexander 

 Lines written after hearing a pair of these fine musicians sing 



together. 



'Twas at the close of one Parnassian day, 

 When Spring was vibrant with a lavish tongue. 

 And earth was vocal with the pulsing lay 

 Of glad green June, the flowery glades among; 

 We heard the wood thrush challenge rivalry, 

 With regal voice, and grave sweet melody. 



And straight with flute-like flourishes, there came 

 The rich response, from just across the way, 

 Each sang to put the other song to shame, 

 And filled the hour with Traubadour display; 

 An autiphon, that made the slanting beam 

 A sounding flood, from distant planet seem. 



We stood enthralled, and lo! monastic piles 

 Rose visionlike, and through themullioned screens 

 Of trees, a light was shed on mystic aisles, 

 And gothic grew the towering evergreens; 

 For in our soul we seemed to hear the choir 

 Of Notre Dame, draw near and then retire. 



It was indeed as though the hand of Bach 

 Again was laid upon the organ keys, 

 While bending boughs in festive measure rock 

 In rhythm with the largo on the breeze; 

 So rare the chant, of such majestic mold, 

 It seemed a liquid, strained through bars of gold. 



While just beyond another song was heard, 

 A pandean cadence with a lessening fall, 

 So like the echo of some spirit bird 

 Or feathered houri, — Ah, the melting call, 

 That intermingled with the wood-thrush twain, 

 Was that the veeries other worldly call? 



234 



