BIRDS AND POETS. 157 



is his lowlier sister ! Still is she bone of his bone and flesh 

 of his flesh, and sings for him of love ! Yet he, too, sings 

 of love. Her love is of the sun and flowers his love goes 

 winging to freeze among the stars, and will not stoop to ca- 

 ress her. Ah ! nnfraternal despot ; ye may not know the 

 innocent joy when it is warm about the heart. Thus her 

 meek rebuke would be plained low from out her tiny heart ! 

 But, gentle singer, though in the aggregate we be 



" A people currish, churlish as the seas, 

 And rude almost as rudest salvages" 



yet have we men and women of us, who 



" Subscribe to tender objects" 



who can turn away from the unholy altars of this " dark 

 idolatry of self," to know and feed upon the beautiful in out- 

 ward things. To such, thou art a lowly sister 



And for thy songs they give thee song again, 

 But set thy lispings to a loftier strain ! 



Safer in their wide sympathies thou mayest nestle than in 

 the strong cedar cherished and nourished at their deep 

 hearts take thine ease thou mayest be glad ! 



These are the true Monarchs here. They have thrown aside 

 the purple and forgotten State. They go forth bare and 

 meek into the throng of living creatures, and in their benefi- 

 cence alone do they seem royal "the benediction" of, their 

 calm, genial smiles falls everywhere in dew ; 



" And they shall be accounted Poet Kings, 

 "Who simply say the most heart-easing things." 



These are they the Song Birds typify ! the soft-eyed and 

 musical-hearted ! Ah, alike how full of happy love and 

 the power of giving joy ! 



