Where in the whitethorn Singeth a thrush...

Gone were but the Winter,

Come were but the Spring,

I would go to a covert

Where the birds sing;

 

Where in the whitethorn

Singeth a thrush,

And a robin sings

In the holly-bush.

 

Full of fresh scents

Are the budding boughs

Arching high over

A cool green house:

 

Full of sweet scents,

And whispering air

Which sayeth softly:

We spread no snare;

 

Here dwell in safety,

Here dwell alone,

With a clear stream

And a mossy stone.

 

Here the sun shineth

Most shadily;

Here is heard an echo

Of the far sea,

Though far off it be.

 

by Christina Rossetti

Christina Georgina Rossetti was an English writer of romantic, devotional and children's poems, including "Goblin Market" and "Remember".

Born: 5 December 1830, London

Died: 29 December 1894, Torrington Square

 

 

Thrush birds are beautiful creatures that often have a symbolic meaning and totem. In many cultures, they are considered messengers of the divine and can carry a powerful message to those who listen.

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