Verse > Anthologies > William Stanley Braithwaite, ed. > The Book of Restoration Verse
William Stanley Braithwaite, ed.  The Book of Restoration Verse.  1910.
The Swallow
By Abraham Cowley (1618–1667)

FOOLISH prater, what dost thou
So early at my window do
With thy tuneless serenade?
Well’t had been had Tereus made
Thee as dumb as Philomel;        5
There his knife had done but well.
In thy undiscovered nest
Thou dost all the winter rest,
And dreamest o’er thy summer joys
Free from the stormy seasons’ noise:        10
Free from th’ill thou’st done to me:
Who disturbs, or seeks out thee?
Hadst thou all the charming notes
Of the wood’s poetic throats,
All thy art could never pay        15
What thou’st ta’en from me away;
Cruel bird, thou’st ta’en away
A dream out of my arms to-day,
A dream that ne’er must equal’d be
By all that waking eyes may see.        20
Thou this damage to repair,
Nothing half so sweet or fair,
Nothing half so good can’st bring,
Though men say, thou bring’st the Spring.

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