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First Line: God loosed his shining flock at even
Last Line: Little star-birds, fly home to god!


GOD loosed His shining flock at even,
And every little, gold bird came winging
Into the dim, grey heaven,
Sailing and singing.
Swift and eager in luminous flight
Through the breathing dark of the summer night.
Ah, little birds,
With gold wings palpitating over the blue,
Whither go you,
Journeying by airy hill and hollow?
I fain would follow
Through the ways of heaven.
I, the man bereaven,
In whose heart is a wound as of a thousand swords.

On your heavenly road
You are so high, so high,
Can you see my sweetheart's face
By the crystal lattices,
When the gates of the House of God
You go faring by?
Her hair is a mist of light,
Her eyes are the eyes of a dove,
Her vesture is maiden-white,
She is my beautiful love!
I know you will find her, for sure,
Walking by Mary's side,
My lady lily-pure!
My saint, all sanctified!
Tell her I bring a daffodil in March
To her grave under the larch;
A lily in Summer's prime,
A golden leaf in the harvest-time,
And red, red berries in the rime,
When desolate and chill,
The winds moan on the purple hill.

Tell her no maiden's face doth pleasure me
Save in its dear resembling of hers,
For any maiden's voice on land or sea
My sad heart never stirs.
No rose may blossom on her dead, young cheek,
Out from her grave no voice shall ever speak.
O birds of God!
Tell her I am with nor hope or succour
Since the day He took her
Into His rest.
Yea, the wolf of pain hath gnawed
To the very quivering core of the living heart in my breast!

Hie away!
Blue i' the east is the dawn o' the day.
And the eagle of the Sun
Would reign alone.
Out of his road!
Little star-birds, fly home to God!





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