"They have not chosen me" - he said - "But I have chosen them"! Brave - Broken hearted statement - Uttered in Bethleem! I could not have told it, But since Jesus dared, Sovreign, know a Daisy Thy dishonor shared!
Her breast is fit for pearls, But I was not a "Diver". Her brow is fit for thrones - But I had not a crest. Her heart is fit for home - I - a sparrow - build there Sweet of twigs and twine My perennial nest.
The saddest noise, the sweetest noise, The maddest noise that grows, - The birds, they make it in the spring, At night's delicious close, Between the March and April line - That magical frontier Beyond which summer hesitates, Almost too heavenly near.
It makes us think of all the dead That sauntered with us here, By separation's sorcery Made cruelly more dear.
It makes us think of what we had, And what we now deplore. We almost wish those siren throats Would go and sing no more.
An ear can break a human heart As quickly as a spear. We wish the ear had not a heart So dangerously near.
Were nature mortal lady Who had so little time To pack her trunk and order The great exchange of clime - How rapid, how momentous - What exigencies were - But nature will be ready And have an hour to spare.
To make some trifle fairer That was too fair before - Enchanting by remaining, And by departure more.
A train went through a burial gate, A bird broke forth and sang, And trilled, and quivered, and shook his throat Till all the churchyard rang; And then adjusted his little notes, And bowed and sang again. Doubtless, he thought it meet of him To say good-by to men.