THE birds sang from the tree, "Sweetheart Go forth across the silent hills, For, in the vale their shadow fills, Thy love awaiteth thee With lonely heart." She wound a wreath of flowers So sweet, And, while the birds still sang their song Across the hills she passed along In the fair sunrise hours, Her love to meet. But when the sun, asleep At eve, Lay hid behind a purple cloud, Each little bird in leafy shroud Saw her return and weep, "And dost thou grieve?" "Ah no, I am not sad," She said, "He did not know me when I came, But I have crowned him all the same, And how can I be sad? My heart is glad." | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE PAUPER'S DRIVE by THOMAS NOEL HITOPADESA: DEDICATION by EDWIN ARNOLD PICKEN O' SCROFF by WILLIAM BARNES REASONABLE MELANCHOLY by JOSEPH BEAUMONT SLEEP, BABY, SLEEP by EDOUARD JOACHIM CORBIERE |