“The Changeling” – Charlotte Mary Mew

Linda Catherine

Toll no bell for me, dear Father dear Mother, 
Waste no sighs; 
There are my sisters, there is my little brother 
Who plays in the place called Paradise, 
Your children all, your children for ever; 
But I, so wild, 
Your disgrace, with the queer brown face, was never, 
Never, I know, but half your child! 

In the garden at play, all day, last summer, 
Far and away I heard 
The sweet “tweet-tweet” of a strange new-comer, 
The dearest, clearest call of a bird. 
It lived down there in the deep green hollow, 
My own old home, and the fairies say 
The word of a bird is a thing to follow, 
So I was away a night and a day. 

One evening, too, by the nursery fire, 
We snuggled close and sat round so still, 
When suddenly as the wind blew higher, 
Something scratched on the window-sill, 
A pinched brown face…

View original post 407 more words

Advertisements