Classic Poem

Etheline - Book 4, Part 6

6.

When rose the heron in the wind,
His legs outstretch'd his flight behind,
In search of warmer skies;
She gaz'd on him, with upturn'd eyes.
And said, " Oh, thou, the fleet, the wild!
Stay! tell me — Hast thou seen my child? "
When after him the eagle pass'd,
And over her his shadow cast,
She said, " Thou strong of eye and wing!
Far can'st thou fly, and widely see;
Oh, King-bird, seek her, find her, bring
My Telmarine to me!
Or I must die in misery. "
Then, on the bird she strain'd her sight,
Till he became a speck in light,
And till, at last, he vanish'd quite;
And then she gaz'd on empty air,
Fearing to turn her eyes away,
As if her only hope was there,
There — in that depth of barren grey,
On which, with his last gasp of breath,
Man tries to fix his gaze in death.
Death! — face of stone, and soul of lath,
Yet the last friend that misery hath —
" A long sweet sleep awaiteth thee, "
Saith ghastly Death to Misery!
And he, in pity, on her smil'd;
For she must die! or find her child.
And soon nor squirrel, otter, snake,
Shall see her, from the wood or lake;
Nor hawk, nor heron, from the sky
Look on the maid, now fain to die.
Pale, paler, weaker, she became;
Chill tremors shook her failing frame;
And with slack knees, and swimming head,
She sank upon her sleepless bed,
Where her worn face, a child's in size,
Seem'd cold in woe, as polar skies,
And polar snow.
The fountain of her tears was dried;
She wept no more, but ever sigh'd;
Hear Heart broke not! 'twas petrified.English