Sing me another song sweet__
I have learnt this one by rote;
The endless merry-go-round repeat
Of the tuneful, tender, teasing note:
A moment's rest for the tired throat
(Just long enough for a heart to beat),
And at it again; "Che-wink, che-wink."
O bird, dear bird, with the outspread wings
And little to chant about!__
When death reaches over the wreck of things
To stifle the soft, delighted shout:
And, all unruffled by dread or doubt,
Your musical mite of a soul upsprings,
Will you still go crying "Che-wink, che-wink?"
Little I know, but this I hold:
If the rushing stars, should meet__
Their crystal spheres into chaos rolled__
Let only this one pure voice entreat:
Great love would answer the summons sweet.
And a universe fresh as the rose unfold.
So at it again. "Che-wink, che-wink!"
__Amanda T. Jones