Swan To Her Cob


My fight with depression was long and severe
Then I met my Cob, I knew hope was near.
He flied to my shoulder and begged for a kiss
He ruffled his feathers when His beak met my lips.

I measured the world with my ruby eyes;
I have perched on Wisdom’s tree
Thronged with the blossoms of Paradise
By the streams of Eternity.

Nothing is hid from my burning heart;
My mind is explained and still;
My song is rapture’s mystic art,
My flight immortal will.

Little bird! O little bird!
I wonder what you are doing
Singing merry far from me,
I in sadness all alone-
Hope you too agree!

Little bird! O little bird!
I wonder how you are….
High on the tips of branching boughs,
I on the ground a bit far…..

Submitted by paromita.

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