4648419Poems — My BirdFrances M. Sharpless

MY BIRD
Speed thee away, my Bird!
From all thy weary pain,
'Tis not thy mother's love
Would call thee back again.
The clouds are gathering fast,
And angry rolls are heard
Which bode the coming storm.
Then haste away, sweet Bird!

Haste thee away to skies
Where tempests never come,
Where love eternal smiles
In an unfading home.
Speed, speed away, sweet Bird!
Seek thou a happier spot;
Leave me and speed away;
Behold, I hold thee not!

What heed if tears will swell
To these rebellious eyes?
What heed if words of cheer
Are checked by breaking sighs?
What heed if vain regrets
The mother's heart assail?
The love I bear to thee
O'er nature shall prevail.

O speed thee hence, while yet
I feel my soul so strong:
Take with thee smile and look
That charmed my heart so long.
Take with thee, sweet, thy wiles,
That cheered me in my sorrow,
My Angel Bird, whose eyes
Gave new hope for each morrow.

Speed, speed away, ere thought
Recalls me to my lot,
And tells of lonely hours
When I shall have thee not.
Ere fancy pictures how
At every turn I'll miss
Thy little winning ways,
Thy gentle, fond caress.

Take with thee all my hope,
Built on thy future years;
Frail hope, that like the frost
In one night disappears.
Speed, speed away, my Bird,
A happier sphere to fill;
I give her, God, to thee!
My broken heart, be still!