©fje Wmfflxx 

 The Humming Bird 



By Af tiler Hageman 



From summer isles of song I stray, 

 With many a glittering pendant; 



A feathered kiss flower on my way, 

 So rare and so resplendent. 



Unravished by a touch of earth, 

 Chaste as the sistered seven, 



My bright virginity of birth, 

 The livery of heaven. 



I build my wondrous nest apart, 

 Where none may fly or follow; 



Tiie rarest gem of avian art, 

 That hides by hill or hollow. 



A dainty little exquisite, 

 As goblet-days brim deeper, 



I brighten in the blazing heat, 

 Round columbine and creeper. 



On humming winglets, hour by hour, 



I loiter at the lattice, 

 To sip the nectar from the flower, 

 Where twines the blue clematis. 



I rouse the bee and butterfly, 

 Within the blossom sunken, 



I spill its cup and summer by, 

 With honey-dew half drunken. 



And still at tropic noon I stray, 

 Where the wild cataract whitens; 



Drinking the cooling drops of spray 

 O'er which my rainbow brightens. 



To hover, hover, closely round 



The honeysuckle covers; 

 There's many a song of sweeter sound. 



But ne'er a song that hovers, 



I take the light that morning flings, 

 Athwart the moated granges, 



Till with its tints upon mv wino-s, 

 My plumaged prism changes 



17 



