 | Western windows and other poems |  |
225
THE BIRDS OF LONGING.
The mournful Birds are flown
That flutter'd in my breast
Through all the days of Spring,
And fill'd me with unrest.
That flutter'd in my breast
Through all the days of Spring,
And fill'd me with unrest.
The Birds of Longing wild!
They came in April skies,
Among the blossoming boughs,
The wingéd prophecies.
They came in April skies,
Among the blossoming boughs,
The wingéd prophecies.
Of unknown summer lands
They sang their haunting dreams—
Poor tropic birds, asleep
To wake in Arctic gleams!
They sang their haunting dreams—
Poor tropic birds, asleep
To wake in Arctic gleams!
“Whence came ye, Birds?” I said:
They sang, “We have no home;
Lost are the nests we loved—
We long, and long must roam.
They sang, “We have no home;
Lost are the nests we loved—
We long, and long must roam.
226
“Blown by the vernal winds,
Warm blossom-bearers, we
From soul to soul in Spring
Drift over land and sea.”
Warm blossom-bearers, we
From soul to soul in Spring
Drift over land and sea.”
| Western windows and other poems | |