I look’d outside my window there
And saw a bird fly high.
I glanced down at the papers on
my desk: another dead.
I look’d outside at skies so fair:
Their beauty made me cry.
I thought of all my friends now gone:
My heart was dipped in lead.
I look’d within my heart and saw
A thousand quiet pains.
I saw a pigeon bird, and knew
That all it loved was life.
I look’d within my heart and raw
Was I at those pale strains.
I look’d without and saw ’twas true:
We all were wrong in strife.
What secrets then have they that we
Somehow have not at all?
What have we lost that we once had
That would then mend it all?