AN EMPTY NEST |
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AN EMPTY NEST
I find an old deserted nest,
Half-hidden in the underbrush:
A withered leaf, in phantom jest,
Has nestled in it like a thrush
With weary, palpitating breast. I muse as one in sad surprise
Who seeks his childhood`s home once more,
And finds it in a strange disguise
Of vacant rooms and naked floor,
With sudden tear-drops in his eyes. An empty nest! It used to bear
A happy burden, when the breeze
Of summer rocked it, and a pair
Of merry tattlers told the trees
What treasures they had hidden there. But Fancy, flitting through the gleams
Of youth`s sunshiny atmosphere,
Has fallen in the past, and seems,
Like this poor leaflet nestled here,--
A phantom guest of empty dreams.
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