Classic Poem

Blackbird , by whom the wood shall thrill
With golden song from golden bill,
What tune wilt trill? what thought instil?
Burden of grief or gush of glee?

Would the loud-ringing carol show
That troth is froth, and passion woe;
Alas! we know this long ago.
Choose thou another melody.

But see where Hesper, mellow-bright,
Undoth the portal of the night;
More lovely sight, more glowing light,
Opened of old all heaven to me.

Cometh she hitherward, more fair
Than all far stars that flame in air?
If joy so rare thy song declare,
Sing, Blackbird, sing unceasingly.

Earth could not more, or Heaven astound,
Yet peal the hopeless hope around
Till the sweet sound be falsehood found.
Then die, and Music die with thee.