Get out the microscope, because we’re going through this poem line-by-line.
Lines 66-68
Sing on there in the swamp,
O singer bashful and tender, I hear your notes, I hear your call,
I hear, I come presently, I understand you,
- Ah, we're back to that loner hermit-thrush bird, singing in the swamp again. Notice that he's coming back at a perfect time when the speaker is feeling rather alone, dissatisfied, and abandoned by his orb. So even the poem itself, with its symbolic cameo appearances, has a certain cycle to it that brings everything together.
- The singing means even more to the speaker at this time, since there's little more he can do but "sing" this poem of mourning and consolation. That's why here the speaker says, "I hear your notes," and "I understand you." Those notes ring close to home now for him.
- And again, the anaphora in the "I hear" clause reminds us of the connection the speaker now feels with the singer. Through repetition we sense his conviction that he does indeed understand the hermit's song now. He knows what it's like to be alone, dissatisfied, and grieving.
- And yet, line 67 tells us that the singer is "bashful and tender," which gives him a softer, more beautiful side. He's not some angry bird, smashing up pig buildings on an iPhone. He's a tender, and with his song he manages to still establish a connection with the speaker.
Lines 69-70
But a moment I linger, for the lustrous star has detain'd me,
The star my departing comrade holds and detains me.
- Even though the speaker understands the song now, he's still captivated by that star that's holding him back. He can't give himself completely to the song just yet. So even though we sensed some resolution earlier, we see here that it's not fully complete, since the star has "detain'd" (detained) the speaker.
- Line 70 pretty much convinces us of the symbolism of the star. It's referred to here as a "departing comrade," so we definitely sense the connection between the star and Lincoln.
- The speaker lingers, because he can't quite let go of that departing comrade. After all, letting go of those we love is the hardest part of grieving. And that's why the speaker repeats the word "detains," since it often feels like the memory of our loved ones keeps us from being able to let go. We're kind of "detained" in our memories of them.