AEGROTUS. SPRING, -- art thou come, O Spring! I am too sick for words; How hast thou heart to sing, O Spring, with all thy birds? MERULA. I sing for joy to see again The merry leaves along the lane, The little bud grown ripe; And look, my love upon the bough! Hark, how she calleth to me now, -- 'Pipe! pipe!' AEGROTUS. Ah! weary is the sun: Love is an idle thing; But, Bird, thou restless one, What ails thee, wandering? HIRUNDO. By shore and sea I come and go To seek I know not what; and lo! On no man's eaves I sit, But voices bid me rise once more, To flit again by sea and shore, -- Flit! Flit! AEGROTUS. This is Earth's bitter cup: -- Only to seek, not know. But Thou, that strivest up, Why dost thou carol so? ALAUDA. A secret Spirit gifteth me With song, and wing that lifteth me, -- A Spirit for whose sake, Striving amain to reach the sky, Still to the old dark earth I cry, -- 'Wake! wake!' AEGROTUS. My hope hath lost its wing. Thou, that to Night dost call, How hast thou heart to sing Thy tears made musical? PHILOMELA. Alas for me! a dry desire Is all my song, -- a waste of fire That will not fade nor fail; To me, dim shapes of ancient crime Moan through the windy ways of time, 'Wail! wail!' AEGROTUS. This is the sick man's song, -- Mournful, in sooth, and fit; Unrest that cries 'How long!' -- And the Night answers it. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...IN A CATHEDRAL CITY by THOMAS HARDY A CHRISTMAS CAROL by JOSIAH GILBERT HOLLAND AGAINST INDIFFERENCE by CHARLES WEBBE LE MARAIS DU CYNGE by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER FATHER, THY WILL BE DONE by SARAH FLOWER ADAMS |