128 WILD SCENES AND SONG-BIRDS. 



And if green and sunshine make the earth fair, 



Food for his spite he will find. 

 But ! it's a hideous sort of spleen, 



And a very hard cold hate, 

 That could come where joyous summer had been 



Just to leave all desolate ! 



VI. 



The rolling river, 



We loved to see 

 In sunbeams quiver, 



Darkened left he 

 Green forests, waving 



Like the deep sea, 

 Vexed to upheaving 



All, bare, left he 

 The flame- winged bird 



That lit the tree, 

 Where its song was heard, 



Banished had he ! 

 The floweret's eye 



That smiled sweetly 

 Where the dead leaves lie 



Frozen had he. 



Fled darkened and bare and frozen were they, 

 The timid and bright things dare not to stay ; 

 A cruel old tyrant to revel thus, 

 In murdering beauty, in howling and fuss ! 



Though mournful this be, it is far sadder still 



When in the track of his merciless will 



Human hearts bowed they the warm and the brave 



The best loved and frailest his stern hours gave 



Coldly to Death. it is hard thus to slay 



These gentle ones when their loved summer's away 



