Bird on the leafless bough.
Summer has fled;
Bird on the leafless bough,
Flowers are dead.
Dead too thy trilling song,
Dead in thy grief;
Not e'en a saddened song
Mourns for the leaf.
E'en now on leafless bough
Swells the small bud;
Soon all the leafy bough
Blossoms shall stud.
Then 'mid the summer leaves,
Winter forgot
Singing 'mid summer leaves,
Thy happy lot!
Why then, poor stricken soul!
Why dost thou grieve?
Thou knowest, smitten soul!
Time will relieve.
Ah ! will not mem'ry keep
Sharp grief alive!
Never will mem'ry sleep,
Howe'er I strive.
Alexander Bathgate (1845 – 1930) New Zealand (born Scotland)
Source: Australian poets, 1788-1888; by Douglas Brooke Wheelton Sladen, Cassell publishing company, 1890
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