Subject: The Bravest Bird that Ever Flew above Ternate!

The bees drone faintly in the shaded wood,
The sun slants warm across the open glade,
And on yon branch stands proud the silent bird,
Whose plumage once beguiled the stately maid.

With steady eye and closely folded wing
He watches o'er the silent shimm'ring land.
No substance passes twixt his tight-closed beak,
No water will he drink from any hand.

For HE has chosen, and his thoughts demand
That he must die tomorrow in the heat of day.
He pines and cannot 'bide the pangs of sorrow
That fill the void of one now gone away.

No tear bejewels the eyes that stare unblinking.
All joy is past and all earthly desire.
The blood that raced before can now but trickle,
And apathy replaces erstwhile fire.

And yet this bird once soared above the treetops
And dared to spread his wings 'neath cobalt skies,
And dart like crimson fire through the branches
To fill the very forest with his cries!

But now his life is lighter than a feather,
His thoughts are focused on another flight.
He deems it less than nothing now to die,
And so he steels himself against the night.

And oh that I might also go down with him
And make oblivion my dwelling place,
Never to think again of sad tomorrows,
Beyond all pain, all insult and disgrace.

But I am man and he is only feathers
Although he may be yet the better being,
The braver and the nearer to the truth,
His flight the straighter and his eyes more seeing.

But unlike him I am tabooed--forbidden!
For I must live my life by other laws.
And while he breaks and flies into the shadows,
My fate is yet to suffer without pause.

Yes, yes, within myself me thinks I see him!
Perchance this bird of fire is part of me,
For I like him have died of deprivation
And yet somehow I continue to be!

O scarlet bird who lives and dies within me,
Who dies and lives and dies and lives again!
Whose feathers now lie twitching in the ashes,
Then flap against the night and race for dawn!

O Phoenix of the sunshine and the morning,
Where fliest thou now, where singest thou thy song?
Think well when thou shalt soar above the treetops
Of yonder bird who dies but did no wrong!

Think well, think well when your telephone bell jingles,
And sweet Erica's fair voice fills you with song
Think well now as you soar above the treetops,
Lest you die too when you have done no wrong!