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Home  »  A Victorian Anthology, 1837–1895  »  A Dead Singer

Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. (1833–1908). A Victorian Anthology, 1837–1895. 1895.

John E. Logan b. 1852

A Dead Singer

FAIR little spirit of the woodland mazes,

Thou liest sadly low,

No more the purple vetch and star-eyed daisies

Thy mating hymn shall know.

No more the harebell by the silent river

Shall bend her dainty ear,

When nigh thou fliest, and her petals quiver

With maiden joy to hear.

No more to flit among the yellow mustard,

Imperial thistle tops,

And intertwining woodbine, thickly clustered

With tendrils of wild hops.

No more the dragon’s darting course to follow

O’er golden, sunlit sheaves;

No more to catch, within the shady hollow,

The dew from spangled leaves.

No more above the scented rose to hover,

Sipping its fragrant fee;

No more to chase, across the billowy clover,

The velvet-coated bee.

What fatal stroke has torn the downy cincture,

Round thy once tuneful throat

And pulseless bosom, where a deathly tincture

Dyes thy soft feathery coat?

No gentle mate and thou shalt wing together,

With tender chicks, your way,

To sunnier southern fields, when autumn weather

Chills the short northern day.

Dead is the soul of love and song and laughter,

That thrilled thy fragile breast,—

There is no more for thee, but dead hereafter

Of unbegotten rest.