THE CHILD

Father! Within the forest's bound
No bird I found,
No sound of song the woods around.


THE FATHER

The bird that glad his song us gave,
Flies o'er the wave;
Perhaps he there will find his grave.


THE CHILD

But why does he not wait till later?


THE FATHER

He goes where light and warmth are greater


THE CHILD

Father! It selfish seems to me,
Far off to flee,
When all we others here must be.


THE FATHER

With new-born spring comes new-born song;
By instinct strong
The better new he'll bring erelong.


THE CHILD

But if in death the cold waves swallow-?


THE FATHER

Others will come; his kin will follow.