Poems to Sea- Birds. 269 



Is it far in the depths of some inland bower, 

 Away from the scene's of destruction's power ? 

 Not there is the sea bird's home. 



When the fire-winged lightning flashes by, 

 And the thunder rolls o'er the blackened sky, 

 When terror sits brooding o'er air and earth, 

 As if to hail a demon's birth, 

 Away, away, on the shrieking wind, 

 Leaving the thoughts of fear behind, 

 Doth the hardy sea bird roam. 



Not on the topmost bough of the tree, 

 Away from the sound of his native sea, 

 But like a king on his craggy throne 

 He seateth him, and there alone 

 Watching the wrecks of grandeur made, 

 When the storm-fiend o'er the waters played, 

 Doth the sea bird find a rest." 



Mr. Alexander Maclagan has these two fine stanzas 

 in his poem, " To a Wounded Sea Bird": 



" Alas for thee, poor bird ! no more 

 'Twill be a joy with them to soar 



Through sunshine, calm, or storm ; 

 Nor on the shelly shore to land, 

 And sit like sunshine on the sand, 



Pluming thy beauteous form. 



Cold, nestled on the black sea rock, 

 I hear thy little feathered flock 



In piteous accents mourn 

 For thee and food ; but all are gone, 

 And thou art drifting on and on, 



And can no more return." 



We might almost have included the stately heron 

 among the sea-birds, for at certain times it will make 

 its way to the sea-shore, and set itself to work in the 



