omadhaun

The Whippoorwill


Whether the sky is blue of mirth
The winds are brisk of chill ,
Nothing in this world is sweet -
Sings yon whippoorwill .
Upon a distant bough he yowls
Through winter's breath - endures !
Whether it be day or night
Within his dreams - immured .
Til the day no longer breathes
And night in turn shall wane ,
O to know eternal love -
As he and I know pain!

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The Whippoorwill

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