O bird of twinkling eye and plumage gay, 

 Soaring in glorious heights beyond our ken, 

 Threading the branching beauty of the glen, 

 What clouds have fall'n upon thy shining way ! 

 Preying thyself, thou art become a prey, 

 A hovering terror feared and cursed of men ; 

 For faithful shepherd needs must smite again 

 Whate'er his harmless flock would tear and slay. 

 A madness like thine alpine torrent's own, 

 Shrouding thee in the mists of lowering hate. 

 Hurries thee to the shade of nether gloom. 

 Dashes thee from thy bush-clad mountain throne 

 To deep disgrace and ignominious fate. 

 And seals thee with irrevocable doom. 



—ALBERT B. CHAPPELL. 



