THE bird in my heart is calling through a farfled, tear-grey sea To the soft slow hills that cherish dim waters weary for me, Where the folk of rath and dun trail homeward silently In the mist of the early night-fall that drips from their hair like rain. The bird in my heart is a-flutter, for the bitter wind of the sea Shivers with thyme and woodbine as my body with memory; I feel their perfumes ooze in my ears like melody -- The scent of the mead at the harping I shall not hear again. The bird in my heart is sinking to a hushed vale hid in the sea, Where the moonlit dew o'er dead fighters is stirred by the feet of the Shee, Who are lovely and old as the earth but younger than I can be Who have known the forgetting of dying to a life one lonely pain. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE LITANY OF THE DARK PEOPLE by COUNTEE CULLEN POSSUM SONG (A WARNING) by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON THE DARKEST HOUR; OXFORD, 1917 by GEORGE SANTAYANA APRIL by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS THE CHILD'S FIRST GRIEF by FELICIA DOROTHEA HEMANS CRADLE SONG AT TWILIGHT by ALICE MEYNELL UNDERWOODS: BOOK 2: 6. THE SPAEWIFE by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON |