The Lost Falcon

A lady cried: "My falcon's taken flight
To lands far off from here.
The bird I reared so long is now held tight
By stranger hands, I fear.
Too slack I left the jesses
That kept him safe and true.
Now, like a nettle, vain remorse distresses
My heart and burns it through.

And yet I hope he will return anon,
Though now so far he roams,
When his plumes break and when his bells are gone
And winter's menace comes;
When hunting-time is over
And all the hedge is bare,
He'll wing his way back to his corn and cover,
And fly no farther there."