The Red Bird 



1 watch his wings in thickets (Hm, 



For sunset seems to follow him — 



Sunset from some mysterious West 



Whose crimson glory girds his breast. 



A winged ruby wrought of fame, 



W'hence comes his beauty? whence his name? 



Clear as a bright awakening beam 



Through the vague vista of a dream. 



An answer comes. I seem to feel 



The flash of armor, glint of steel, 



The whir of arrows quick and keen, 



The battle-axe's baleful sheen. 



The long, relentless spear whose thrust 



Makes the mad foeman writhe in du<t : 



The din of conflict and the stress 



( )f war's incarnate angriness ; '•' " ''■ 



A \va\ ering mass ; * ''■'• '■' a jmnic wrought 



Swift as some .stormy l)urst of thought: 

 Then distance hides a \anquished host. 



And sounrl becomes a wandering ghost. 



I hit soon 1 see. half poised in air. 



And stricken by a nameless fear, 



A small, brown-breasted bird, whose eyes 



Are clouded with a deep surprise — 



The earliest bird with terror rife 



At wild waste of human life. 



1 low soon his dread lo wonder lurns. 



.\s downward where a life-stream burns 



He darts and dips his (|ui\ ering wings. 



While ')'er hi'- lu-irt ihe crini'^on clings! 



W itli rnthful eyes and re\i'rent face 



lie li(>\ers slowly o'er the place: 



.Xnd when at last his wings are spread. 



.\ lurid lu^ux crowns his head. 



.\nd his bright body soars afar. 



Ked as autumnal sunsets are. — Ifavnc. 



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