The Birds of Shakespeare 
Tis not through envy of thy happy lot, 
But being too happy in thy happiness,— 
That thou, light-winged Dryad of the trees, 
In some melodious plot 
Of beechen green, and shadows numberless, 
Singest of summer in full-throated ease. 
Each poet seeks to interpret for himself 
the meaning of the song of the bird and 
the. sources of its inspiration. ‘To Words- 
worth the Cuckoo seems to be 
Babbling to the vale 
Of sunshine and of flowers. 
To Keats the Nightingale was singing of 
“summer.” Shelley asks the Skylark : 
What objects are the fountains 
Of thy happy strain? 
What fields, or waves, or mountains ? 
What shapes of sky or plain? 
What love of thine own kind? What ignorance of pain ? 
Again, to the poet’s ear the bird-music 
awakens memories of the past. To Words- 
worth the notes of the Cuckoo brought 
“a tale of visionary hours in his boyhood 
when, in his endeavour to set eyes upon 
the bird, he would 
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