I HAVE A BIRD IN SPRING
I have a Bird in spring, which for myself doth sing. The spring decoys. And as the summer nears. And as the Rose appears, Robin is gone. Yet do I not repine, knowing that Bird of mine though flown. Learneth beyond the sea, melody new for me, and will return. Fast is a safer hand, held in a truer land are mine. And though they now depart, tell I my doubting heart they’re thine. In a serener Bright, in a more golden light, I see each little doubt and fear, each little discord here removed. Then will I not repine, knowing that Bird of mine, though flown shall in a distant tree, bright melody for me return.
(Emily Dickinson)