The Death-Wake or Lunacy, A Necromaunt. In Three Chimeras. By Thomas Tod Stoddart |
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TO A STORM-STAID BIRD. |
 | The Death-Wake |  |
135
TO A STORM-STAID BIRD.
Trembler! a month is past, and thou
Wert singing on the thorn,
And shaking dew-drops from the bough
In the golden haze of morn!
Wert singing on the thorn,
And shaking dew-drops from the bough
In the golden haze of morn!
My heart was just as thee, as light—
As loving of the breeze,
That kiss'd thee in its elsin flight,
Through the green acacia trees.
As loving of the breeze,
That kiss'd thee in its elsin flight,
Through the green acacia trees.
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And now the winter snow-flakes lie
All on thy widow'd wing;
Trembler! methinks I hear thee sigh
For the silver days of spring.
All on thy widow'd wing;
Trembler! methinks I hear thee sigh
For the silver days of spring.
But shake thy plume—the world is free
Before thee—warbler, fly!
Blest by a sunbeam and by me,
Bird of my heart! good-bye!
Before thee—warbler, fly!
Blest by a sunbeam and by me,
Bird of my heart! good-bye!
| The Death-Wake | |