A Reed by the River/Youth
YOUTH
Out of the heart there flew a little singing bird
Past the dawn and the dew, where leaves of morning stirred,
And the heart which followed on, said; "Though the bird be flown
Which sang in the dew and the dawn, the song is still my own."
Past the dawn and the dew, where leaves of morning stirred,
And the heart which followed on, said; "Though the bird be flown
Which sang in the dew and the dawn, the song is still my own."
Over the foot-worn track, over the rock and thorn,
The tired heart looked back to the olive leaves of morn,
To the fair lost fields again, and said; "I hear it! Oh, hark!"—
Though the bird were long since slain, though the song had died in the dark.
The tired heart looked back to the olive leaves of morn,
To the fair lost fields again, and said; "I hear it! Oh, hark!"—
Though the bird were long since slain, though the song had died in the dark.