1844-54- THE DOVE AND EAGLE. 223 



losopher. That's a fetch. I have roared in the hands of 

 the surgeons, but I never cried." 



THE WINGS OF THE DOVE AND THE EAGLE. 

 PSALM Iv. 6; ISAIAH xl. 31. 



As I lay upon my bed, 



Weeping and complaining, 

 Turning oft my weary head, 



Hope and help disdaining ; 

 Lo ! before mine eyes there stood, 



Vision of an ancient wood, 

 Full of happy birds pursuing 



Each the other with keenest zest ; 

 And I heard the plaintive cooing 



Issuing from the turtle's nest, 

 Till I murmured at the sight, 



And forgot God's high behest ; 

 " Had I but your wings, I might 



Fly away and be at rest." 



Then the low, sweet, plaintive cooing 



Of the fond maternal birds, 

 Seemed itself with thoughts imbuing, 



And at length flowed forth in words. 



" Plumes of doves and fluttering wings 

 Are but vain and feeble things, 



Timidly the air they fan ; 

 Scarcely would they serve to raise thee, 

 Need the truth at all amaze thee ? 



O'er this earth a little span. 

 Look thou there ! " and, lo ! an eagle, 



From his nest amid the stars, 

 Stood before me with his regal 



Front, and venerable scars. 

 In a moment, wide extending 



His great wings (so seem'd my dream), 

 He was in the air ascending 



With a wild, exulting scream. 



