Imitated:—
From childhood gay, from childhood gay,
E'er breathes to me a strain,
How far the day, how far the day
Which ne'er may come again!
And is her song, and is her song—
She who brings back the spring,
The hamlet touching with her wing, the hamlet touching with her wing—
Is it true what she doth sing?
"When I set forth, when I set forth,
Both barn and chest were brimming o'er;
When I came back, when I came back,
I found a piteous lack of store."
Oh, my own home, so dearly loved,
Kind Heaven grant that I may kneel
Again upon thy sacred hearth,
While dreams the happy past reveal!
The swallow surely will return,
Coffer and barn will brim once more;
But blank remains the heart, empty the heart remains,
And none may the lost restore!
The swallow skims through the hamlet,
She sings as she sang of yore:—
"When I set out, when I set out,
Both barn and chest were brimming o'er;
When I came back, when I came back,
I found a piteous lack of store."
The swallow, caught in the morning, and closely examined, is seen to be a strange and ugly bird, we confess; but this fact perfectly well agrees with what is, par excellence, the bird—the being among all beings born for flight. To this object Nature has sacrificed everything; she has laughed at form, thinking only of movement; and has succeeded so well that this bird, ugly in repose, is, when flying, the most beautiful of all.