From my own kind I only learn How foolish comfort is; To gather things that happy minds Should neither crave nor miss: Fine brackets to adorn my walls, Whose tales are quickly told; And copper candlesticks or brass, Which soon must leave me cold. From my own kind I only learn That comfort breeds more care; But when I watch our smaller lives, There's plainness everywhere: That little bird is well content, When he no more can sing, To close his eyes and tuck his head Beneath his own soft wing. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE DIORAMA PAINTER AT THE MUSEUM OF NATURAL HISTORY by KAREN SWENSON DISCORDANTS: 1 by CONRAD AIKEN THE SCRIBE by WALTER JOHN DE LA MARE THE LOST PLEIAD by WILLIAM GILMORE SIMMS THE KING'S DAUGHTER by ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE |