Heart, not so heavy as mine
Wending late home —
As it passed my window
Whistled itself a tune —
A careless snatch — a ballad — A ditty of the street —
Yet to my irritated Ear
An Anodyne so sweet —
It was as if a Bobolink
Sauntering this way
Carolled, and paused, and carolled —
Then bubbled slow away!
It was as if a chirping brook
Upon a dusty way —
Set bleeding feet to minuets
Without the knowing why!
Tomorrow, night will come again —
Perhaps, weary and sore —
Ah Bugle! By my window
I pray you pass once more.
This poem makes me feel as though she longs for love yet she is afraid to have it. it makes me think that she believes she is lost to any feelings that she doesnt deserve love. it reminds me of myself. that there is no reason for anyone to love her when she has no love for her self. like love is a wonderful myth meant for everyone but her and everyone else in the world do not exist but only in her mind so that she is the only person alive and no one can touch her