A nursling of the under-green, A tethered wing I poised between A heaven above and heaven below -- Twin sisters, mirrored in the glow Of limpid waters -- where the breeze, Blind comrade of the listening trees, Came wakening with soft caress The shadows dumb and motionless. There once, at summer's close, a flame Of fire and song, a redbird came, And, perched upon my parent limb, Outpoured his soul. From joy abrim, The bubbling vintage of his brain I quaffed, the while each fibre-vein, Deep-reddening with emotion, stirred. Alas! he heeded not nor heard! But when he ceased and flew away, A panting prisoner I lay, Close-fettered, till the kindred fire Of frost lit up the autumn pyre; Then, suddenly, the tidal swell Of sap receded, and I fell. |