 | The Poetical Works of William Cullen Bryant |  |
THE SWALLOW.
FROM THE ITALIAN OF F. GROSSÈ.
Swallow from beyond the sea!
That, with every dawn again,
Sitting on the balcony,
Utterest that plaintive strain!
What is that thou tellest me?
Swallow from beyond the sea.
That, with every dawn again,
Sitting on the balcony,
Utterest that plaintive strain!
What is that thou tellest me?
Swallow from beyond the sea.
Haply thou, for him who went
From thee, and forgot his mate,
Dost lament to my lament,
Widowed, lonely, desolate.
Ever, then, lament with me,
Swallow from beyond the sea.
From thee, and forgot his mate,
Dost lament to my lament,
Widowed, lonely, desolate.
Ever, then, lament with me,
Swallow from beyond the sea.
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Happier yet art thou than I.
Thee thy trusty wings may bear,
Over lake and cliff to fly,
Filling with thy cries the air,
Calling him continually,
Swallow from beyond the sea.
Thee thy trusty wings may bear,
Over lake and cliff to fly,
Filling with thy cries the air,
Calling him continually,
Swallow from beyond the sea.
Could I, too!—but I must pine
In this narrow vault and low;
Where the sun can never shine,
Where the breeze can never blow;
Where my voice scarce reaches thee,
Swallow from beyond the sea.
In this narrow vault and low;
Where the sun can never shine,
Where the breeze can never blow;
Where my voice scarce reaches thee,
Swallow from beyond the sea.
Now September days are near,
Thou to distant shores wilt fly;
In another hemisphere,
Other streams shall hear thy cry;
Other hills shall answer thee,
Swallow from beyond the sea.
Thou to distant shores wilt fly;
In another hemisphere,
Other streams shall hear thy cry;
Other hills shall answer thee,
Swallow from beyond the sea.
Then shall I, when daylight glows,
Waking to the sense of pain,
Midst the wintry frosts and snows,
Think I hear thy notes again,—
Notes that seem to grieve for me,
Swallow from beyond the sea.
Waking to the sense of pain,
Midst the wintry frosts and snows,
Think I hear thy notes again,—
Notes that seem to grieve for me,
Swallow from beyond the sea.
Planted here, upon the ground,
Thou shalt find a cross in spring.
There, as evening gathers round,
Swallow, come and rest thy wing.
Chant a strain of peace to me,
Swallow from beyond the sea.
Thou shalt find a cross in spring.
There, as evening gathers round,
Swallow, come and rest thy wing.
Chant a strain of peace to me,
Swallow from beyond the sea.
Naples, February 8, 1858.
| The Poetical Works of William Cullen Bryant | |