birdsandeveRobert Frost He would have said, and could himself believe That the birds there in all the garden round Had gathered from the day-long voice of Eve And added to their own, an oversound, Her tone of meaning, though without the words. Admittedly an eloquence so soft Could only have been taken up by birds When call or laughter carried them aloft. Be that as may be, she was in their song. Moreover, her voice upon their voices crossed Had now re-echoed in the woods so long That probably they never would be lost. Never again would birds' song be the same. And to do that to birds, was why she came.