Stedman and Hutchinson, comps. A Library of American Literature:
An Anthology in Eleven Volumes. 1891.
Vols. IX–XI: Literature of the Republic, Part IV., 1861–1889
The Prairie Plover
By William Osborn Stoddard (18351925)T
And, through the gray,
The long-drawn, mournful whistle of the plover
Sounds, far away.
Fog-blind and grim,
To find the chill world ’neath him sympathizing
Bluely with him.
His pale light falls,
While, wailing like some lost wind that is dying,
The plover calls.
No loftier strains;—
To me it simply means, “Alas, I’m lonely
Upon these plains.”
Of roll and knoll
Cause him to pour forth thus, with poised pinions,
His weary soul.
Sad, dreary strain,—
I’d sit and whistle, all day, like the plover,
And mean the same.