A Book on Birds 



In helping of some heart more frail, 



Or bowed beneath a deadlier blow 

 Than I have known — and fain to fail 



For bitterness of woe — 

 Out, out to where the country yields 



A calm surcease from toil and grief, 

 And all the fair and fragrant fields 



Breathe rest and deep relief. — 

 I travel light! 



I travel light — that I may keep, 



Unhelmeted, my head on high 

 Toward the great hills of heav'n, where leap, 



Eternal, to the sky. 

 Those upper fountain-springs of life, 



Whose freshening waters fall below, 

 As dew, on pilgrims faint with strife, 



To cheer them as they go 

 With an uplifting sense — and sure. 



Of triumph even in defeat. 

 I travel light — who would endure 



Must bear (for death is fleet) 

 Not weapons that but sap his strength 



(Death-given, to betray his trust) — 

 But arms that in the end at length 



Shall turn them not to dust. — 

 I travel light! 



[174 



