by Elinor Wylie
TO A BLACKBIRD SINGING
Marcus Argentarius
Where the poisonous mistletoe
Over the oak her magic weaves,
Sign no more, O blackbird! go
To safer shade of silver leaves.
Sing, and set your little foot
On golden grape and silver vine:
The Wine-God loves your song: the fruit
Will cool your lovely throat with wine.
Last updated January 14, 2019