This heart forget to beat-these lips be dumb, And this form lie deep, in the icy tomb! And shall no Spring e'er break upon the grave? Shall flesh and Spirit, there alike confin'd, Perish together? Shall Oblivion wave Her raven wing o'er the high soaring mind? It cannot be! Spring shall dawn on the tomb, And Man come forth to bright, unfading bloom! THE MYSTERIOUS BIRD. THOU beautiful bird Of the golden crest, Of the shining wing And the glossy breast; Who sittest from morn Till the close of day, On the thorn by my window, More holy and sweet Than mortal hath heard Whence whence comest thou, O beautiful bird! Ere the bright, warm Sun Mounts his Eastern tower; Ere the bee hies forth To feast on the flower, Thy soul-thrilling measures Of rapture and love Are gently ascending, Like incense, above! No eye yet hath seen From whence thou dost come O beautiful bird, Where where is thy home? I have watch'd thee-when sunset Threw over the hill A mantle of glory All breathless and still, And seen thee unfold Thy glistening wing, And rise on the air, Like a heavenly thing, Till lost to the eye Of the gazer below O beautiful bird, Where where dost thou go? Art thou of the Earth? Or dost thou abide On some star that glitters Of sweetness and love, From beings who dwell Dost visit the Earth To cheer the lone breast? O beautiful bird, Where-where is thy rest? I know by thy notes Pour'd out on the air, Thou dream'st not of sorrow, I would that my spirit Were buoyant as thine; My bosom as guiltless, My song as divine; My feelings as holy As those of thy heart! O beautiful bird, Why must thou depart? 1 |