Classic Poem

The Whippoorwill, among the slumberous trees,
Flingeth her solitary triple cry
Upon the busy lips of every breeze,
That wafts it in wild echoes up the sky,
And through the answering woods, incessantly.
Surely some pale Ophelia's spirit wails
In this remorseless bird's impassioned sigh,
That like a lost soul haunts the lonely dales!
Maiden, sing me one of thy pleasing madrigals.

THE WHIPPOORWILL.

Ere the dawn, one morning early,
Jeannie tripped the meadows o'er,
Passing by the fields of barley,
By the cottage at the shore:
" There his faith was pledged and broken,
'Neath yon tree beside the Mill! "
From the tree, when she had spoken,
Came a dismal " Whip-poor-will! "
" Whip-poor-will! Whip-poor-will! "
From the tree beside the Mill
Piped the doleful Whippoorwill.

" Truly, " Jeannie said, " poor Willie?
He was false to heaven and me;
He was false, and I was silly,
Yet the bird sings heartlessly.
Nevermore we'll sit at gloaming,
'Neath the tree beside the Mill;
Willie's heart has gone a-roaming! "
Quoth the harsh bird — " Whip-poor-will! "
" Whip-poor-will! " Whip-poor-will! "
From the tree beside the Mill
Piped the doleful Whippoorwill.

Jeannie's heart was all compassion,
Jeannie's lips a pardon sighed;
" Absent loves are all the fashion! " —
" Whip-poor-will! " the rude bird cried,
From the pasture tripped the Maiden,
With her foamy milking pail,
Every roaming breeze was laden
With the strange bird's heartless wail:
" Whip-poor-will! Whip-poor-will! "
In the tree beside the Mill
Piped the doleful Whippoorwill.

From the cottage by the river
Truant Willie, blushing, came,
Jeannie's heart would still misgive her,
Though he softly spake her name:
" Ever since that evening, Jeannie,
That we parted at the Mill,
All the night long, bright or rainy,
Shrieked that noisy Whippoorwill. "
" Whip-poor-will! Whip-poor-will! "
From the tree beside the Mill
Piped the saucy Whippoorwill.

On the Maiden's lips paused Willie,
Jeannie never asked the cause,
But all patience, like a silly
Little Maiden as she was,
Held her mouth up like a flower,
That her bee might sip his fill,
While the bird, with startling power,
Shrieked his wildest " Whip-poor-will! "
" Whip-poor-will! Whip-poor-will! "
Nevermore beside the Mill
Piped that noisy Whippoorwill.