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The Blue-Bird

by Marion Thornton Egbert

Sunshine, the bird, and the bended bough,
Hushed and afar are life's troubles now
When here I may feel the flying feet,
The throb of the bird's heart flutter sweet,
And all the unforgotten bliss
That thrills her, when she sings like this,
Upon yon bended bough.

Oh to cling for a wild mad moment of bliss
To a bended bough with a lover's kiss,
To stay for an instant the flying feet,
To know the pain of a joy complete,
To waken Memory, to thrill anew
At the ghost-spray's touch, O bird of blue,
How I envy you!

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