Destroyers and Other Verses/Frau Mathilde's Parrot

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Frau Mathilde's Parrot.

Up five long flights my poet lies,
Inch by inch his body dies;
No ray of sunshine lights the gloom
Within that solitary room;
No loving hands upon him wait,
He lies alone from dawn till late;
Each groan of pain, each lonely sigh
Is answered by a parrot's cry.

There, when the winter's fitful light
Faded with on-coming night,
His loneliness would find relief
In taunting my too timid grief;
With song and story grave and gay
He'd chase his gloomy ghosts away—
With many a bitter jest defy
The world's malignant parrot-cry.

But when to quiet my despair
At some rude word, he smoothed my hair,
And stooped to kiss my faded cheek,
All the thoughts I dared not speak
Surged in a tempestuous tide
Of wayward tears—I could not hide
The love I'd striven to deny,
And shivered at that parrot's cry.

Paris, 1855.