Fr88C


Heart not so heavy as mine
Wending late home –
As it passed my window
Whistled itself a tune –

A careless snatch – a ballad –
A Ditty of the street –
Yet to my irritated ear
An anodyne so sweet –

It was as if a Bobolink
Sauntering this way
Carolled and mused, and carolled –
Then bubbled slow away –

It was as if a chirping brook
Opon a toilsome way
Set bleeding feet to minuets
Without the knowing why –

 ¦

Tomorrow – night will come again –
Perhaps – tired and sore –
Oh Bugle, by the window
I pray you stroll once more!

Soul ′ Wilt thou toss again?

By just such a hazard

Hundreds have lost indeed,

But tens have won an all –

 

Angels′ breathless ballot

Lingers to record thee –

Imps in eager caucus

Raffle for my soul!