Classic Poem

FOR MY SISTER AND BROTHER .

This small bright wing, that used to fly
In far Kentucky's summer light
And lift clear music toward the sky,
Lies full of tears to-night.

Wild little memory of the woods
In whose dark paths we loved to go,
When the old hills were flush'd with buds
Or pallid with the snow:

I kiss you, tenderly and fast —
For her, the beautiful and dear,
Between whose lips and mine have pass'd
The dim waves of a year;

For him through whose dark, careless hair
The shadows of the palm-trees play —
Perchance in warm Pacific air
He thinks of us to-day.

Ah, were I but the light, free bird
That wore you through old woodland glooms,
Familiar leaves should soon be stirr'd
With my returning plumes.

But that wild, winged thing is dust
Where wither'd falls have dropp'd and blown,
And my wild, winged thoughts, I trust,
Can fly on love alone.