Page:Poems Sigourney 1827.pdf/222

222 

Where art thou, Bird of Song?— Brightest one, and dearest!— Other groves among, Other nests thou cheerest, Sweet thy warbling skill To each ear that heard thee, But 't was sweetest still To the heart that rear'd thee.—

Lamb! where dost thou rest?— On stranger-bosoms lying?— Flowers thy path that drest Now uncropp'd are dying, Streams where thou didst roam Murmur on without thee, Lov'st thou still thy home?— Can thy mother doubt thee?—

Seek thy Saviour's flock, To his blest fold going, Seek that smitten rock Whence our peace is flowing; Still should Love rejoice, Whatsoe'er betide thee, If that Shepherd's voice Evermore would guide thee.

 

She sat beneath the verdant shade Where young birds chirp'd in leafy cell, Where wild flowers deck'd the mossy glade, And tuneful waters murmuring fell, 