For works with similar titles, see Wounded.
WOUNDED.
Once a little song bird caroled
Notes of perfect ecstasy,
In bright costume all apparelled,
Happy as a bird could be.
Notes of perfect ecstasy,
In bright costume all apparelled,
Happy as a bird could be.
Never thought of pain or danger,
Made his happy song less sweet;
'Till the footfall of a stranger
Sounded through his cool retreat.
Made his happy song less sweet;
'Till the footfall of a stranger
Sounded through his cool retreat.
Just a red stain on the mosses,
Just a broken, shattered strain;
Just a tiny wing that flutters,
But will never rise again.
Just a broken, shattered strain;
Just a tiny wing that flutters,
But will never rise again.
Lying underneath the grasses,
Hidden from the sportsman's eye;
Hour by hour the long day passes,
Dying, still yet cannot die.
Hidden from the sportsman's eye;
Hour by hour the long day passes,
Dying, still yet cannot die.
Thus one sunny day I found it,
Wounded with a cruel dart;
With sad silence all around it,
Was the little bird—a Heart?
Wounded with a cruel dart;
With sad silence all around it,
Was the little bird—a Heart?