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.