The Poet And The Caged Turtledove
As often as I murmur here My half-formed melodies, Straight from her osier mansion near, The Turtledove replies: Though silent as a leaf before, The captive promptly coos; Is it to teach her own soft lore, Or second my weak Muse? I rather think, the gentle Dove Is murmuring a reproof, Displeased that I from lays of love Have dared to keep aloof; That I, a Bard of hill and dale, Have caroled, fancy free, As if nor dove nor nightingale, Had heart or voice for me. If such thy meaning, O forbear, Sweet Bird! to do me wrong; Love, blessed Love, is everywhere The spirit of my song: 'Mid grove, and by the calm fireside, Love animates my lyre That coo again! 'tis not to chide, I feel, but to inspire.
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"As often as I murmur here..."
"The Poet And The Caged Turtledove" is a quintessential example of William Wordsworth's signature style... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...