24 Musings by Camp- Fire and Wayside 



The Sparrow : 



But nymphs who are bom of the sea 

 You know are capricious and free, 

 And sometimes defiant of fate. 

 Remember, sweet swain, 

 Like Rapture and Pain, 

 That Love is the brother of Hate. 

 Ah me — me — me ! 



The Poet: 



Sad sprite of the forest, thy song 

 Is omen of pitiless wrong. 



And sweetly bemoaneth my fate. 



Too oft, as with you. 



The false wins the true — 



Love's arrows are stolen by Hate. 



Ah me — me — me ! 



