And one flew west, to the new the unknown nest,
And one that was wing’d with flaming words—
Something the Queen had uttered, tender—sweet,—
Fluttered back and died—just at her feet.
Ho! chants a Rower, straining at the sweep,
Leave the landsman to his pillow, the sailor to the deep.
All night the Queen
In fever burned;
A dream returned
Long ago seen: