XXXIV
Just as we left the lake I saw near by
A night-bird sheltered in a black pine’s shade,
By bold bright thunder of the light dismayed,
There fled to shelter till dusk touched the sky.
Within his mimic night he nestled nigh
Unto the great tree’s trunk, blinking, afraid;
Grief clutched my heart. Like him you are not made
For noisy daylight, I think quick, and sigh.
You are my black, black night-bird! Well I know
You’ll leave me for the dusk again and go
Through twilights on and on, forgetful, free,
Pale silences down-floating, far from me,
And I shall be as in daylight a star
That fades and falters where the lightnings are.