Felicia Hemans in The New Monthly Magazine Volume 39 1833/The Lonely Bird

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For other versions of this work, see The Lonely Bird.

The New Monthly Magazine, Volume 39, Page 413


The Lonely Bird.

From a ruin thou art singing,
    O lonely, lonely bird!
The soft blue air is ringing
    By thy summer-music stirr'd;
But all is dark and cold beneath,
    When harps no more are heard;
Whence winn'st thou that exulting breath?
    O lonely, lonely bird!

Thy song flows richly swelling
    To a triumph of glad sounds,
As from its cavern-dwelling
    A stream in glory bounds!
Though the castle echoes catch no tone
    Of human step or word,
Though the fires be quench'd, and the feasting done,
    O lonely, lonely bird!

How can that flood of gladness
    Rush through thy fiery lay,
From the haunted place of sadness,
    From the bosom of decay?
While dirge-notes in the breezes moan
    Through the ivy garland heard,
Come, chant with thy rejoicing tone,
    O lonely, lonely bird!

Yet I know a heart, wild singer!
    Like thy forsaken tower,
Where joy no more may linger,
    Whose love hath left his bower;
And I know a spirit e'en like thee,
    To mirth as lightly stirr'd,
Though it soar from ruin in its glee—
    O lonely, lonely bird!