Down with the oar, I toil no more. Trust to the boat; we rest, we float. Under the loosestrife and alder we roam To seek and search for the halcyon's home. Blue bird, pause; thou hast no cause To grudge me the sight of fishbones white. Thine is the only nest now to find. Show it me, birdie; be calm, be kind. Wander all day in quest of prey, Dart and gleam, and ruffle the stream; Then for the truth that the old folks sing, Comfort the twilight, and droop thy wing. |