Lost Beliefs

ONE after one they left us;
The sweet birds out of our breasts
Went flying away in the morning:
Will they come again to their nests ?

Will they come again at nightfall,
With God’s breath in their song?
Noon is fierce with the heats of summer,
And summer days are long!

Oh, my Life ! with thy upward liftings,
Thy downward-striking roots,
Ripening out of thy tender blossoms
But hard and bitter fruits,—

In thy boughs there is no shelter
For my birds to seek again !
Ah! the desolate nest is broken
And torn with storms and rain!