Deserted
by Richard Kendall Munkittrick

High in the peartree’s branches,
A nest swings to and fro;
And the winds about it moaning,
Fill it with drifting snow;
And a lone bird softly twitters,
When wanes the ghostly day:
“Oh, where are the redbreast lovers,
Who lingered here in May?”

On the hilltop stands a ruin,
Beyond the dreary plain,
And the wind sends the wild snow flying
Through ev’ry broken pane;
While moans on the hearth forsaken,
An owl of orders gray:
“Oh, where are the happy lovers,
who lingered here in May?”