Author Oliver Wendell Holmes See what the artist's hand could do To clothe these winged words! So Nature lends each loveliest hue To deck her darling birds. Why turn the leaves for aught beside Your pleasure to prolong? 'Tis not the brightest plumes that hide The throats of sweetest song. Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments