The Wren

Within the greenhouse dim and damp     The heat floats like a cloud.     Pale rose-leaves droop from the rust roof     With rust-edged roses bowed.     As I go in     Out flies the startled wren.     By the tall dark fir tree he sings     Morn after morn still,     Shy and bold he flits and sings     Tinily sweet and shrill.     As I go out     His song follows me about ...     About the orchard under trees     Beaded with cherries bright,     Past the rat-haunted Honeybourne     And up those hills of light:     As up I go     His notes more sweetly flow.     Or down those dark hills when night's there     Full of dark thoughts and deep,     A thin clear soundless music comes     Like stars in broken sleep.     When I come down     All those dark thoughts are flown.     And now that sweetness is more sweet,     Here where the aeroplanes     Labouring and groaning in the height     Lift their lifeless vans:--     Sweet, sweet to hear     The far off wren singing clear.