 | Poems by John B. Tabb |  |
17
THE HOSPITAL BIRD.
A breath of joy, sweet bird,
A solace to each prisoner of pain,
A pledge of hope returning, is thy strain
Through the long watches heard.
A solace to each prisoner of pain,
A pledge of hope returning, is thy strain
Through the long watches heard.
The soul in sleepless sighs,
Or else of dreams, through panting hours, the prey,
Hails in thy voice a prophecy of day
Ere yet the darkness flies.
Or else of dreams, through panting hours, the prey,
Hails in thy voice a prophecy of day
Ere yet the darkness flies.
The tender babe, new-born,—
The dying mother, startled by its wail,—
The fevered brow,—the cheek of madness pale,—
The bosom rest-forlorn,—
The dying mother, startled by its wail,—
The fevered brow,—the cheek of madness pale,—
The bosom rest-forlorn,—
Each, with emotion strong,
Heaves through the billowed agonies of night,
Whilst over them, a glittering foam of light,
Drifts thy unshadowed song.
Heaves through the billowed agonies of night,
Whilst over them, a glittering foam of light,
Drifts thy unshadowed song.
18
How vast its influence sweet!
How small the voiceful compass of thy throat,
Whereof each silver, scintillating note
A thousand blessings greet!
How small the voiceful compass of thy throat,
Whereof each silver, scintillating note
A thousand blessings greet!
Teach me the power divine
Some light o'er dark humanity to fling,
Some song of hope celestial to sing,
Dear to all hearts as thine.
Some light o'er dark humanity to fling,
Some song of hope celestial to sing,
Dear to all hearts as thine.
| Poems by John B. Tabb | |