A Tragedy

A soft-breasted bird from the sea 
Fell in love with the light-house flame; 
And it wheeled round the tower on its airiest wing, 
And floated and cried like a lovelorn thing; 
It brooded all day and it fluttered all night, 
But could win no look from the steadfast light. 

For the flame had its heart afar,— 
Afar with the ships at sea; 
It was thinking of children and waiting wives, 
And darkness and danger to sailors' lives; 
But the bird had its tender bosom pressed 
On the glass where at last it dashed its breast. 
The light only flickered, the brighter to glow; 
But the bird lay dead on the rocks below.