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TO THE BLUE-BIRD. 



Sylvia Sialis, — (Lath.) 



" In far Columbian climes 

 The Blue-bird, that domestic sylviad, he 

 Whom youth, whom age, whom infancy respects, 

 Affords sincere delight what time the spring 

 He wakens with his gentle melodies." 



From an unpublished Poem. 



Bird cerulean ! Bird of Spring ! 

 Listen while the strain I sing. 

 When nature clad in robes of green 

 Amidst her woodland haunts is seen ; — 

 When trees and flowers pour out their bloom, 

 And fling abroad a rich perfume. 

 Then, then thy softest, sweetest note 

 On zephyr's wave is heard to float ; — 

 All things look fair, rejoicing, bright — 

 Children of hope and high delight; 

 While infancy enraptur'd views 

 Thy beauty ting*d with purple hues. 



Bird cerulean ! Bird of Spring ! 



Listen while the strain I sing. 

 Thy spring shall pass, thy summer fly, 

 And autumn quit thee with a sigh ; 

 At length, the winter's howling gust 

 Shall dash thy pleasures to the dust ; 



