Rest

 ON me to rest, my bird, my bird:
 The swaying branches of my heart
Are blown by every wind toward
 The home whereto their wings depart.



Build not your nest, my bird, on me;
 I know no peace but ever sway:
O lovely bird, be free, be free,
 On the wild music of the day.



But sometimes when your wings would rest,
 And winds are laid on quiet eves:
Come, I will bear you breast to breast,
 And lap you close with loving leaves.

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