The Martin comes atlast
A decade has gone, the Martin comes at last, She comes along her mate to her old home, Where once she dwelt, where her years cast, Her early years spend in timbered groves to roam. Martin, do you still recall me, oh old friend? I watched your artistry in building your nest, In shade we played, and into joy we blend, Where joy does blend, the days could be best. But lo, the world has altered, all has changed, The homes of mud and grass are lost to time, And love, that love so purified is now estranged, And truth, peace and patience seem a crime. Still in your tiny eyes, Dear bird, a joy I see, On my face, as you do fly to me, to me…….