 | Poems at Home and Abroad |  |
66
Sadness in Song
With swiftly broken sentences of song,
Ere yet the stars had faded to the grey,
The thrush began; he fluted all the day,
And when the sun set did his tune prolong
In passionate iteration; thro' the throng
Of inexpressible thoughts from far away
Came a clear voice, a solemn liquid lay,
A silver undercurrent sad and strong.
Ere yet the stars had faded to the grey,
The thrush began; he fluted all the day,
And when the sun set did his tune prolong
In passionate iteration; thro' the throng
Of inexpressible thoughts from far away
Came a clear voice, a solemn liquid lay,
A silver undercurrent sad and strong.
That was the blackbird. He who, though his bill
Be gold and gay, has never changed his weeds;
For ever, though the crocus flame and die,
And buttercup to daffodil succeeds,
He feels that love is linked with sorrow still,
He knows how soon the little ones will fly.
Be gold and gay, has never changed his weeds;
For ever, though the crocus flame and die,
And buttercup to daffodil succeeds,
He feels that love is linked with sorrow still,
He knows how soon the little ones will fly.
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