A bird bills the selfsame song,
With never a fault in its flow,
That we listened to here those long
       &nbsp Long years ago.

A pleasing marvel is how
A strain of such rapturous rote
Should have gone on thus till now
       &nbsp Unchanged in a note!

- But it’s not the selfsame bird. -
No: perished to dust is he . . .
As also are those who heard
       &nbsp That song with me.