Beside my opened window pane,
Each morning in this month of May
A blackbird sings in dulcet strain
Two liquid notes, which seem to say
“Come again! Come again!”
Alike in sunshine and in rain,
Now loud and clear, now soft and low,
He warbles forth the same refrain,
Which haunts me with its hint of woe,—
“Come again! Come again!”
What bird, whose absence gives him pain,
Doth he thus tenderly recall?
What longed-for joy would he regain
By those two words which rise and fall,—
“Come again! Come again!”
Sometimes, when I too long have lain
And listened to his plaintive air,
An impulse I cannot restrain
Hath moved me too to breathe that prayer,—
“Come again! Come again!”
O vanished youth, when faith was plain,
When hopes were high, and manhood's years
Showed dazzling summits to attain;
O days, ere eyes grew dim with tears,—
“Come again! Come again!”
O friends, whose memory leaves no stain,
O dearly loved and early lost!
Do you your love for me retain
Beyond the silent sea you crossed?
“Come again! Come again!”
Alas! sweet bird, all life moves on;
The seed becomes the ripened grain,
And what is past is gone, is gone!
Cease calling, therefore,—‘ tis in vain —,
“Come again! Come again!”