ON me to rest, my bird, my bird: <br />The swaying branches of my heart <br />Are blown by every wind toward <br />The home whereto their wings depart. <br /> <br /> <br />Build not your nest, my bird, on me; <br />I know no peace but ever sway: <br />O lovely bird, be free, be free, <br />On the wild music of the day. <br /> <br /> <br />But sometimes when your wings would rest, <br />And winds are laid on quiet eves: <br />Come, I will bear you breast to breast, <br />And lap you close with loving leaves.<br /><br />George William Russell<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/rest-48/
