Heart Not So Heavy As Mine, Wending Late Home, As It Passed My Window Whistled Itself A Tune, -- A Careless Snatch, A Ballad, A Ditty Of The Street; Yet To My Irritated Ear An Anodyne So Sweet, It Was As If A Bobolink, Sauntering This Way, Carolled And Mused And Carolled, Then Bubbled Slow Away. It Was As If A Chirping Brook Upon A Toilsome Way Set Bleeding Feet To Minuets Without The Knowing Why. To-Morrow, Night Will Come Again, Weary, Perhaps, And Sore. Ah, Bugle, By My Window, I Pray You Stroll Once More!