Elinor Wylie

The Falcon

Why should my sleepy heart be taught 
To whistle mocking-bird replies? 
This is another bird you’ve caught, 
Soft-feathered, with a falcon’s eyes.

The bird Imagination, 
That flies so far, that dies so soon; 
Her wings are coloured like the sun, 
Her breast is coloured like the moon.

Weave her a chain of silver twist, 
And a little hood of scarlet wool, 
And let her perch upon your wrist, 
And tell her she is beautiful.