O little bird, I'd be
A Poet like to thee,
Singing my native song-
Brief to the ear, but long
...
Am I the only child awake
Beneath thy midnight beams?
If so, for gentle Slumber's sake,
The brighter be their dreams!
...
Nurtured upon my Mother's knee,
From this, her mountain breast, apart;
Here nearer heaven I seem to be,
And closer to her heart.
...
Lo, where the blooming woodland wakes
O where, the blooming woodland wakes
From wintry slumbers long,
Thy heart, a bud of silence, breaks
...
I bide mine hour, when thou,
Beloved, far away,
As unto sleep shalt bow
Submissive to my sway.
...
When Georgie would not go to bed,
If some one asked him why,
'What is the use?' he gravely said,
'You know I cannot lie.'
...
We sighed of old till underneath His feet
Our pulses beat,
Again to sigh in restlessness until
He saith, 'Be still.'
...
O comrade Sun, that day by day
Dost weave a shadow on my way,
Lest, in the luxury of light,
My soul forget the neighboring night:-
...
And dost thou lead him hence with thee
O setting sun,
And leave the shadows all to me
When he is gone?
...