Page:Poems Angier.djvu/140

SONG OF THE DISENCHANTED.

The dust hath been brushed
 From the butterfly's wing,
The kite of my fancy
 Hath broken its string;
For the soft siren voices
 That greeted my ear,
The raven's hoarse croak
 And the owl's hoot I hear.

The halo hath faded,
 The rose-tint is fled;
And the leaden-hued sky
 Appeareth instead;
Where summer birds nestled,
 And tuned their sweet song,
The canker-worm feeds
 Hope's green leaves among.

A shadow is resting
 On life's pleasant things,
The harp of romance
 Hath parted its strings;