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Philadelphia, 1853
LIKE SOME LONE BIRD
Like some long bird whose wailing note
Tells of its grief o'er wood and plain;
Whose melancholy warblings float
O'er scenes of sorrow, care and pain--
Even such am I.
Or, like a flower all crushed and pale,
Torn by the wind, its bed upriven,
Its leaflets scattered to the gale,
Careering wild by tempests driven,
Even such am I.
No mate to list that bird's sad lay,
No hand to raise that drooping flower;
The song must float unheard away,
The bud still bear the whirlwind's power
And helpless lie! |
