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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
THISTLE-DOWN, by CLARA DOTY BATES First Line: Never a beak has my white bird Last Line: Is the thistle-down. Subject(s): Bords | |||
NEVER a beak has my white bird, Nor throat for song; But wings of silk by soft wind stirred Bear it along. With wings of silk and a heart of seed, Over field and town It sails, -- ah! quaint little bird indeed Is the thistle-down. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HOMAGE TO SEXTUS PROPERTIUS: 12 by EZRA POUND BALLAD OF THE LORDS OF OLD TIME by FRANCOIS VILLON THE BROKEN PITCHER by WILLIAM EDMONSTOUNE AYTOUN LACK OF STEADFASTNESS; BALLAD by GEOFFREY CHAUCER CUPID MISTAKEN by MATTHEW PRIOR THAT GENERAL UTILITY RAG, BY OUR OWN IRVING BERLIN by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS AT TWO-AND-TWENTY by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH |
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