Amy Levy (1861–1889)

SHE, who so long has lain

Stone-stiff with folded wings,

Within my heart again

The brown bird wakes and sings.

Brown nightingale, whose strain

Is heard by day, by night,

She sings of joy and pain,

Of sorrow and delight.

’Tis true,—in other days

Have I unbarr’d the door;

He knows the walks and ways—

Love has been here before.

Love blest and love accurst

Was here in days long past;

This time is not the first,

But this time is the last.