Classic Poem

I

As out of the dark the stars,
Broke forth the heavenly bars
Of passion strong, —
The wild bird's song,
Borne, wave on wave,
From a branch above a grave.

Mute heart, you, listening, heard
The music of the bird;
'T was in your cry, —
" A song had I,
But oh, I know
Of the dead asleep below! "

II

Oft I call, he nothing hears;
Foolish is grief as death is wise.
The white peace chides me where he lies, —
" None would know again the years. "