06 November 2013

Selected Poetry - Birds

Birds, flitting gay 'mid Southern trees,
Flash their bright crest and glancing wing;
Birds, floating on the Northern breeze,
Through all the happy summer sing.
Birds gladden many a quiet home,
With merry glance and cheerful song;
They know not what it is to roam,
Not e'er for untried freedom long.
But sweeter than the wild bird's strain,
And softer than the home-bird's note,
And songs that oft, through heart and brain,
In gently mingling cadence float.
Their numbers breathe of by-gone days,
Chant the low prayers of watching love;
Or warbling, rise in joy and praise,
To join the blessed choirs above.
Nor to the spirit's ear alone
These heavenly harmonies belong;
In many a gentle word and tone
Sounds forth the holy heart-bird's song.
Oh! pleasant 'tis the birds to see,
And guard them with a tender care;
But sad and lone the heart must be,
If no mild birdling nestles there!
June 23, 1866. Ashtabula Weekly Telegraph 17(25): 1.