Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE DEAD SPARROW, by WILLIAM CARTWRIGHT



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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE DEAD SPARROW, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: Tell me not of joy; there's none
Last Line: To sing dirges o'er his stone.
Variant Title(s): Lesbia Upon Her Sparrow
Subject(s): Death - Animals; Sparrows


TELL me not of joy; there's none
Now my little sparrow's gone!
He, just as you,
Would toy and woo!
He would chirp and flatter me!
He would hang the wing awhile
Till at length he saw me smile.
Lord! how sullen he would be!

He would catch a crumb; and then
Sporting, let it go again!
He from my lip
Would moisture sip!
He would from my trencher feed;
Then would hop, and then would run,
And cry "Philip!" when h' had done!
O, whose heart can choose but bleed!

O, how eager would he fight!
And ne'er hurt; though he did bite!
No morn did pass
But on my glass
He would sit, and mark, and do
What I did. Now ruffle all
His feathers o'er; now let'em fall!
And then straightway sleek them too!

Whence will Cupid get his darts
Feathered now, to pierce our hearts?
A wound he may,
Not love, convey,
Now this faithful bird is gone!
O, let mournful turtles join
With loving redbreasts; and combine
To sing dirges o'er his stone.





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