Little Bird

Little bird! O little bird!

I wonder at what thou doest,

Thou singing merry far from me,

I in sadness all alone!

Little bird! O little bird!

I wonder at how thou art

Thou high on the tips of branching boughs,

I on the ground a-creeping!

Little bird! O little bird!

Thou art music far away,

Like the tender croon of the mother loved

In the kindly sleep of death.

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Irish Poets

The Great Poets

Celtic Poems