SONG OF THE CHILDKEN ABOUT SPEING. 131 



They never could stand to be wooed ; 



But she'd kiss him and fan him, 



'Till her warm breath unman him, 

 And then that he tarried he rued. 



XL 



She would break his chains, 



Unlock all the tides, 

 And let the glad streamlets go ; 



All the frozen veins 



"Where the earth-blood glides 

 Awaken to joyous flow. 



Till that gentle race, 



The quaint fairies dress 

 That shrank from his frosty spite, 



Upturn each sweet face 



To her beams' caress, 

 And laugh in the new world's light. 



And those flashing things, 



With their souls all song, 

 That went like dreams when he came, 



With gay clamorings, 



A sweet noisy throng, 

 Come back like arrows of flame. 



And the meek blue bird 



We love far the best, 

 For he stayed while dark hours frowned, 



In low song is heard 



More soft than the rest, 

 That melts with a wind-harp's sound. 



And, accepted king 

 Of all the earth-choir, 



