To G.S.

GLIMPSED now and again in his pine-tree tower,
A chickadee sang the soft hours away.
And I could not hear what he had to say,
For I was sad,
And he was gay.
For he was glad,
And I had no power
To hear in my heart what he had to say.

As he sang to the sun and the bright-eyed flowers
And the golden air, all the world was gray.
To me all was dead in the dreary day
For I was sad
And he was gay.
And he was glad,
As the dull-eyed hours
Rolled on to the close of the dreary day.

For the eyes of the one alone with the power
To brighten and lighten the black-cap's play
Passed me by and were turned away.
So I was sad,
Though the bird was gay;
Though he was glad
In his pine-tree tower;
For her eyes passed me by and were turned away.

August 15, 1890