Poems (Follen)/Charley and his Father
CHARLEY AND HIS FATHER.
a ballad.
The birds are flown away, The flowers are dead and gone; The clouds look cold and gray Around the setting sun.
The trees, with solemn sighs, Their naked branches swing; The winter winds arise, And mournfully they sing.
Upon his father's knee Was Charley's happy place, And very thoughtfully He looked up in his face:
And these his simple words: "Father, how cold it blows! What 'comes of all the birds Amidst the storms and snows?"
"They fly far, far away From storms and snows and rain: But, Charley dear, next May They 'll all come back again."
"And will my flowers come too?" The little fellow said; "And all be bright and new That now looks cold and dead?"
"O yes, dear; in the spring The flowers will all revive; The birds return and sing, And all be made alive."
"Who shows the birds the way, Father, that they must go? And brings them back in May, When there is no more snow?
"And when no flower is seen Upon the hill and plain, Who'll make it all so green, And bring the flowers again?"
"My son, there is a Power That none of us can see, Takes care of every flower, Gives life to every tree."
He through the pathless air Shows little birds their way: And we, too, are his care; He guards us day by day."
"Father, when people die, Will they come back in May?" Tears were in Charley's eye— "Will they, dear father? say."
"No! they will never come: We go to them, my boy; There, in our heavenly home, To meet in endless joy."
Upon his father's knee Still Charley kept his place, And very thoughtfully He looked up in his face.