Classic Poem

I cannot lose thee for a day,
But like a bird with restless wing,
My heart will find thee far away,
And on thy bosom fall and sing,
My nest is here, my rest is here; —
And in the lull of wind and rain,
Fresh voices make a sweet refrain,
" His rest is there, his nest is there."

With thee the wind and sky are fair,
But parted, both are strange and dark;
And treacherous the quiet air
That holds me singing like a lark,
O shield my love, strong arm above!
Till in the rush of wind and rain,
Fresh voices make a rich refrain,
" The arm above, will shield thy love."