Bird Sanctuary

 Between the cliff-rise and the beach
A slip of emerald I own;
With fig and olive, almond, peach,
cherry and plum-tree overgrown;
Glad-watered by a crystal spring
That carols through the silver night,
And populous with birds who sing
Gay madrigals for my delight.


Some merchants fain would buy my land
To build a stately pleasure dome.

Poor fools! they cannot understand
how pricelessly it is my home!
So luminous with living wings,
So musical with feathered joy .
 .
 .

Not for all pleasure fortune brings,
Would I such ecstasy destroy.


A thousand birds are in my grove,
Melodious from morn to night;
My fruit trees are their treasure trove,
Their happiness is my delight.

And through the sweet and shining days
They know their lover and their friend;
So I will shield in peace and praise
My innocents unto the end.

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