THE FINCH.
[_]
(A reminiscence of the Black Forest.)
Finch, that the ways of the world and its business abhorrest,
Yet that before me flitt'st on without cease through the forest,
Still looking back,
Like to the wood-nymph that fled of old time from Apollo,
Over thy shoulder, to see and be sure that I follow
Fast in thy track,
Whither and what is the wood-nook whereto thou wouldst lead me?
What is the lesson that thou with thy fluting wouldst read me,
Bird of the brake?
'Tis as thou feltest that Nature hath me, who her features
Better than those of my mates know, with love for her creatures
Filled for her sake;
'Tis as thou knewest that I, too, the sun-ways, where riper
Cluster Life's grapes, shun, that I too, like thee, am a piper
Under the shade,
Haunter of dell-deeps, like thee, where a dream the air darkens,
Singer of songs in the silence, whereunto none hearkens,
When they are made.
Bird of the wilds and the woodlands, say, what is thy will with me?
Why, thou shy shunner of humankind, lingerest thou still with me,
Hovering near?
Haply some message thou bearest at heart, worth the telling,
Or peradventure some tale of delight soul-compelling
Hast for mine ear?
Say, art thou minded to bring me where, far from Life's Babel,
Wait their return to Olympus the Gods of old fable,
In the wood-deep,
Or to some wonderland lead me wouldst thou, where no care is,
Where there is solace for sorrow, where wood nymphs and fairies
Sing it to sleep?
Or wouldst thou show me where, hidden in solitudes shady,
Waits me, close shut in some castle of Faerie, the lady
Whom in my dreams
Still day and night have I looked on and loved and there only,
She for whose sake I have wandered lifelong by the lonely
Beaches and streams?
Vain, all in vain is my asking! Nought, nought thou repliest.
Still with thy questioning ditty before me thou fliest,
Answer unknown.
Sudden a sun-ray there falls on the bough where thou littest;
And on the wings of the light, like a sunbeam, thou flittest,
Leaving me lone.
