Page:Collected poems vol 1 de la mare.djvu/132

 O one was with me there — Happy I was — alone; Yet from the sunshine suddenly A joy was gone.

A bird in an empty house Sad echoes makes to ring, Flitting from room to room On restless wing:

Till from its shades he flies, And leaves forlorn and dim The narrow solitudes So strange to him.

So, when with fickle heart I joyed in the passing day, A presence my mood estranged Went grieved away.