The Birds and Poets 121 



Note how the rapture in his cautious eye, 

 The conflagration lit along his track. 

 Winged soul of beauty, tropic in desire, 

 Thy love seems alien in our northern zone; 

 Thou giv'st to our green lands a burst of fire 

 And callest back the fables we disown. 

 The hot equator thou might' st well inspire, 

 Or stand above some eastern Monarch's throne." 



and the following beautiful lines by Mary Augusta 

 Mason: 



"A flame went flitting through the wood; 

 The neighboring birds all understood 



Here was a marvel of their kind; 

 And silent was each feathered throat 

 To catch the brilliant stranger's note, 

 And folded every songster's wing 

 To hide its sober coloring. 



Against the tender green outlined, 

 He bore himself with splendid ease 

 As though alone among the trees. 

 The glory passed from bough to bough 

 The maple was in blossom now, 

 And then the oak remembering 

 The crimson hint it gave in spring, 

 And every tree its branches swayed 

 And offered its inviting shade; 

 Where'er a bough detained him long, 

 A slender, silver thread of song 

 Was lightly, merrily unspun. 

 From early morn till day was done 



The vision flitted to and fro." 



