We had found her lying as dead， but soft and warm，

　　Under the apple tree beside the old thatched wall.

　　Two days we kept her in a basket by the fire，

　　Fed her， and thought she well might live ？ till suddenly

　　I the very moment of most confiding hope

　　She arised herself all tense， qivered and drooped and died.

　　Tears sprang into my eyes- why not？ The heart of man

　　Soon sets itself to love a living companion，

　　The more so if by chance it asks some care of him.

　　And this one had the kind of loveliness that goes

　　Far deeper than the optic nerve- full fathom five

　　To the soul抯ocean cave， where Wonder and Reason

　　Tell their alternate dreams of how the world was made.

　　So wonderful she was-her wings the wings of night

　　But powdered here and therewith tiny golden clouds

　　And wave-line markings like sea-ripples on the sand.

　　O how I wish I might never forget that bird-

　　Never！

　　But even now， like all beauty of earth，

　　She is fading from me into the dusk of Time.