(PART II) - MISCELLANY
Books by Mary Baker Eddy

O FOR THY WINGS, SWEET BIRD!
page 853


O FOR THY WINGS, SWEET BIRD!



O for thy wings, sweet bird!
   And soul of melody by being
     blest - 
Like thee, my voice had stirred
   Some dear remembrance in a weary breast.

But whither wouldst thou rove,
   Bird of the airy wing, and fold thy plumes?
In what dark leafy grove
   Wouldst chant thy vespers 'mid rich
     glooms?

Or sing thy love-lorn note - 
   In deeper solitude, where nymph or saint
Has wooed some mystic spot,
   Divinely desolate the shrine to paint?

Yet wherefore ask thy doom?
   Blessed compared with me thou art - 
Unto thy greenwood home
   Bearing no bitter memory at heart;

Wearing no earthly chain,
   Thou canst in azure bright soar far above;
Nor pinest thou in vain
   O'er joys departed, unforgotten love.

PO 35



O take me to thy bower!
   Beguile the lagging hours of weariness
With strain which hath strange power
   To make me love thee as I love life less!

From mortal consciousness
   Which binds to earth - infirmity of woe!
Or pining tenderness - 
   Whose streams will never dry or cease to
     flow;

An aching, voiceless void,
   Hushed in the heart whereunto none reply,
And in the cringing crowd
   Companionless!  Bird, bear me through
     the sky!

Written more than sixty years ago for
the New Hampshire Patriot.


PO 36




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