Pansies (Lawrence)/Won't it be Strange—?

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WON'T IT BE STRANGE———?
Won't it be strange, when the nurse brings the new-born infantto the proud father, and shows its little, webbed greenish feetmade to smite the waters behind it? ​or the round, wild vivid eye of a wild-goose staringout of fathomless skies and seas?or when it utters that undaunted little bird-cryof one who will settle on ice-bergs, and honk across the Nile?—
And when the father says: This is none of mine!Woman, where got you this little beast?—will there be a whistle of wings in the air, and an icy draught?will the singing of swans, high up, high up, invisiblebreak the drums of his earsand leave him forever listening for the answer?

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