Page:The Poetical Works of William Motherwell, 1849.djvu/365

 The sun forgets to warm the earth. Forgets to light the sky; I fear me lest the wandering bird May, houseless, shivering, die!

Forgive me, Helen—thou art free To keep, or quit, the nest I built for thee, and sheltered in The foliage of my breast, And fenced so well none other might Be harbour'd there as guest. Flee if thou wilt—if other love Thy fickle heart enfold, Thou'rt free to rove where fancy waves Her wand of fairy gold— But Helen, ere thou canst return, This bosom will be cold!