Betwixt Two Seas Poems and Ballads (Written at Constantinople and Therapia). By Violet Fane [i.e. M. M. Lamb] |
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A TURKISH JAY'S FEATHER
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A TURKISH JAY'S FEATHER
Oh, barr'd blue feather of the jay!
The wings that shed thee waft me far,
To those calm realms of yesterday
From these, the changeful days that are;
The wings that shed thee waft me far,
To those calm realms of yesterday
From these, the changeful days that are;
When, where this mighty forest flings
Its shadows 'neath a foreign sky,
And only unfamiliar things
Are wont to meet the wond'ring eye,
Its shadows 'neath a foreign sky,
And only unfamiliar things
Are wont to meet the wond'ring eye,
Bright, 'midst the leaves which many a year
Has strewn beside the woodland way,
Lo, I behold thee lying here,
Oh, barr'd blue feather of the jay!
Has strewn beside the woodland way,
Lo, I behold thee lying here,
Oh, barr'd blue feather of the jay!
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So small a thing! and yet, in truth,
As I descry thy vivid hue,
Faith, Hope, and Trust, and vanish'd Youth,
Seem to revive and bloom anew,
As I descry thy vivid hue,
Faith, Hope, and Trust, and vanish'd Youth,
Seem to revive and bloom anew,
And I remember, long ago,
As once, a pensive child, I stray'd
With floating locks and eyes cast low
Beneath as dense a forest shade,
As once, a pensive child, I stray'd
With floating locks and eyes cast low
Beneath as dense a forest shade,
In that grey land that gave me birth,
I saw, on some such autumn day,
Thy blue against the brown of earth,
Oh, bright barr'd feather of the jay!
I saw, on some such autumn day,
Thy blue against the brown of earth,
Oh, bright barr'd feather of the jay!
Did ever after-treasure-trove
Impart a thrill of joy so wild?
Seem'd Fame, or Wealth, or crowning Love,
Worth that blue feather to the child?
Impart a thrill of joy so wild?
Seem'd Fame, or Wealth, or crowning Love,
Worth that blue feather to the child?
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Treasures of youth, so fondly sought!
Like that bright feather of the jay,
How have ye turn'd to things of naught
Since golden locks have changed to grey!
Like that bright feather of the jay,
How have ye turn'd to things of naught
Since golden locks have changed to grey!
If those we cling to in our prime
Have yet the pow'r to please or bless,
God grant us that the touch of Time
May spare the few we still possess!
Have yet the pow'r to please or bless,
God grant us that the touch of Time
May spare the few we still possess!
I know thee now for what thou art,
Who see with sadder eyes to-day,
Yet come and nestle near my heart,
Oh, barr'd blue feather of the jay!
Who see with sadder eyes to-day,
Yet come and nestle near my heart,
Oh, barr'd blue feather of the jay!
Forest of Belgrade, 1897.
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