The Ruined Nest

Sad is yonder blackbird's song,
Well I know what wrought it wrong;
Whosoe'er the deed has done,
Now its nestlings all are gone.

Such a sorrow I, too, know
For such loss, not long ago;
Well, O bird! I read thy state
For a home laid desolate.

How thy heart has burned, nigh broke,
At the rude and reckless stroke!
To lay waste thy little nest
Seems to cowboys but a jest.

Thy clear note called together
Flutt'ring young in new feather;
From thy nest comes now not one —
O'er its mouth the nettle's gone.

Sudden came the callous boys,
Their deed all thy young destroys:
Thou and I one fate deplore —
For my children are no more.

By thy side there used to be
Thy sweet mute from o'er the sea;
The herd's net ensnared her head —
She is gone from thee, and dead.

O Ruler of high heaven!
Thou'st laid our loads uneven:
For our friends on ev'ry side
'Mid their mates and children bide.

Hither came hosts of Faery
To waste our home unwary;
Though they left no wound to tell
Brunt of battle were less fell.

Woe for wife; for children, woe!
I, in sorrow's shadow, go;
Not a trace of them I had
Hence my heavy heart is sad.