ON THE WING.
131
Cold like death, without a breath,
Cold like death?"
Cold like death?"
If he comes to-day
He will find her weeping;
If he comes to-morrow
He will find her sleeping;
If he comes the next day,
He'll not find her at all,
He may tear his curling hair,
Beat his breast and call.
He will find her weeping;
If he comes to-morrow
He will find her sleeping;
If he comes the next day,
He'll not find her at all,
He may tear his curling hair,
Beat his breast and call.
ON THE WING.
SONNET.
ONCE in a dream (for once I dreamed of you)
We stood together in an open field;
Above our heads two swift-winged pigeons wheeled.
Sporting at ease and courting full in view.
When loftier still a broadening darkness flew,
Down -swooping, and a ravenous hawk revealed;
Too weak to fight, too fond to fly, they yield;
So farewell life and love and pleasures new.
Then as their plumes fell fluttering to the ground,
Their snow-white plumage flecked with crimson drops,
I wept, and thought I turned towards you to weep:
But you were gone; while rustling hedgerow tops
Bent in a wind which bore to me a sound
Of far-off piteous bleat of lambs and sheep.
We stood together in an open field;
Above our heads two swift-winged pigeons wheeled.
Sporting at ease and courting full in view.
When loftier still a broadening darkness flew,
Down -swooping, and a ravenous hawk revealed;
Too weak to fight, too fond to fly, they yield;
So farewell life and love and pleasures new.
Then as their plumes fell fluttering to the ground,
Their snow-white plumage flecked with crimson drops,
I wept, and thought I turned towards you to weep:
But you were gone; while rustling hedgerow tops
Bent in a wind which bore to me a sound
Of far-off piteous bleat of lambs and sheep.
