Gray Birds

Gray birds of passage from another sky Are those long hours I sit and wait for you; Borne by strong wings across the sunlit blue They go--dark flecks of shadow drifting by. Sometimes they bring a song--a joyful cry, As morn and eve your coming used to do; But sometimes plaintive notes of sorrow too, Amid the joyful echoes wail and die.

Then as I watch the beating of the wings That seek a haven by far northern lakes, And catch the note of some bird-heart that sings, Or hear the plaintive cry of one that breaks, I turn once more to half-forgotten things, And the old longing in my heart awakes.