The Bat

Bat, Bat, that flies at night

When angels’ breath has blown the light,

When all the bees are hived in bed

And swallow sleeps with hidden head:

Songless bird! until this hour,

Among the bells in the ivied tower

Have you hung dreaming in your house?

Are you a living winged mouse?—

Bat, Bat, I often doubt;

And when I see you flit about,

I wonder if the dead birds roam

In circles round their nestlings’ home....