Here you will find the Poem Blue Wings of poet George Eliot (Mary Ann Evans)
Warm whisp'ring through the slender olive leaves Came to me a gentle sound, Whis'pring of a secret found In the clear sunshine 'mid the golden sheaves: Said it was sleeping for me in the morn, Called it gladness, called it joy, Drew me on 'Come hither, boy.' To where the blue wings rested on the corn. I thought the gentle sound had whispered true Thought the little heaven mine, Leaned to clutch the thing divine, And saw the blue wings melt within the blue!
