Fr208B


Pine Bough –

A feather from the Whippowil 
That everlasting sings –
Whose Galleries are Sunrise –
Whose Stanzas, are the Springs –

 

Whose Emerald Nest – the Ages spin –
With mellow – murmuring Thread –
Whose Beryl Egg, what School-
Boys hunt –
In ″Recess″, Overhead!

I lost a World – the other day!

Has Anybody found?

You’ll know it by the Row of Stars

Around it’s forehead bound!

 

A Rich man – might not notice it –

Yet – to my frugal Eye,

Of more Esteem than Ducats –

Oh find it – Sir ­ for me!