 | Poems of the day and year |  |
6
TO THE REDBREAST
Redbreast, that fliest from the starved wood,
Thy homeless misery scorning to complain,
That speaking eye is not to be withstood,
Thy patience pleads not to my heart in vain;
The wind is whirling and the snows descend;
Friend, come to me and I will be thy friend.
Thy homeless misery scorning to complain,
That speaking eye is not to be withstood,
Thy patience pleads not to my heart in vain;
The wind is whirling and the snows descend;
Friend, come to me and I will be thy friend.
Lone bird, altho' thou hast no songs of joy
To glad me when the nightingale's are dumb,
No golden plumage to enchant mine eye,
Thou comest to me when no others come:
'Tis Hope that makes thee at my casement stand,
'Tis Faith that bids thee fly into my hand.
To glad me when the nightingale's are dumb,
No golden plumage to enchant mine eye,
Thou comest to me when no others come:
'Tis Hope that makes thee at my casement stand,
'Tis Faith that bids thee fly into my hand.
7
Thou lookest in my face with eyes of cheer
That win me in affliction not to weep;
A voice in thy mute sympathy I hear—
‘Hope is not dead, tho' Joy is fallen asleep’:
Ah! would to Heaven that in my days of ill
My winged heart, like thine, were fearless still!
That win me in affliction not to weep;
A voice in thy mute sympathy I hear—
‘Hope is not dead, tho' Joy is fallen asleep’:
Ah! would to Heaven that in my days of ill
My winged heart, like thine, were fearless still!
It saith, ‘Tho' friends forsake thee, there is one,
Tho' penury cling unto thee, do not fear;
Tho' days be darkling, they must be outrun,
And thou and I shall see another year’:
Thou hast my heart, kind bird; oh! give me thine,
That I may neither sorrow nor repine!
Tho' penury cling unto thee, do not fear;
Tho' days be darkling, they must be outrun,
And thou and I shall see another year’:
Thou hast my heart, kind bird; oh! give me thine,
That I may neither sorrow nor repine!
It saith, ‘When glories from the world depart,
And youth is past, oh! linger not alone’:
It saith, ‘When shadows thicken round thy heart
Fly forth, and look on ills beyond thine own;
And Age shall not behold his thin, grey hairs,
And Sorrow shall forget his daily cares.’
And youth is past, oh! linger not alone’:
It saith, ‘When shadows thicken round thy heart
Fly forth, and look on ills beyond thine own;
8
And Sorrow shall forget his daily cares.’
It saith, ‘When days are burning to their end,
And the mind flutters, and the limbs are chill,
There is an inner thought that cannot bend
Before the dread reality of ill’:
Nature's great soul is shadowed forth in thee,
Life under ashes of mortality!
And the mind flutters, and the limbs are chill,
There is an inner thought that cannot bend
Before the dread reality of ill’:
Nature's great soul is shadowed forth in thee,
Life under ashes of mortality!
| Poems of the day and year | |