To be the love and joy of this bird’s song.
As it came leaping on the dark unguarded
Silence of midnight to the door of the ear:
And finding the warm passages unwarded
Sped up the spiral stair, and mounted near
To where in unseen rooms the delicate sprite
That never sleeps sat watching through the night
Weaving the time in fancies strange and drear.
Nor was it that the heavenly music fluttered
The quick electric atoms; rarer far,