As I came to the edge of the woods
Thrush music, hark!
Now if it was dusk outside
Inside it was dark
Too dark in the woods for a bird
By sleight of wing
To better its perch for the night
Though it still could sing
The last of the light of the sun
That had died in the west
Still lived for one song more
In a thrush's breast
Far in the pillared dark
Thrush music went
Almost like a call to come in
To the dark and lament
But no, I was out for stars
I would not come in
I meant not even if asked
And I hadn't been.

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