The White PeHcan as it calmly floats 

 on the surface of the water, some distance 

 from the shore, has been mistaken for the 

 sail of a boat as the moist white feathers 

 glisten in the sunshine. 



Longfellow has beautifully woven this 

 fact into the "Song of Hiawatha." 

 "O'er the water floating, flying. 

 Something in the hazy distance, 

 Something in the mists of morning. 

 Loomed and lifted from the water, 

 Now seemed floating, now seemed flying, 

 Coming nearer, nearer, nearer. 



Was it Shingebis the diver? 

 Or the peHcan, the Shada? 

 Or the heron, the Shuh-shuh-gah ? 

 Or the white-goose, Waw-be-wawa, 

 With the water dripping, flashing 

 From its glossy neck and feathers? 



It was neither goose nor diver. 

 Neither pelican nor heron 

 O'er the water floating, flying, 

 Through the shining mist of morning, 

 But a birch canoe with paddles, 

 Rising, sinking on the water." 



Seth Mindwell. 



THE SANDPIPER, 



The glitter of the sunlit river 



In his flashing, fearless eye, 

 There on his unwearied pinions 



See the bird go sailing by! 



Slender, sword-like wings, and dainty. 



How they cut the thin air now! 

 And without a trace of languor 



Soars he to the mountain's brow. 



Back again — for whim has moved him — 



And where rippling water lies, 

 Scanning all the shore line closely, 



Light as thistle-down he flies! 



On the white sand scarce a footprint 



Makes he, touching here and there; 

 Singing his two notes so gladly, 



Ah, this bird is passing fair! 



Sweet content in voice and motion; 



Following plash of many a wave; 

 Or o'er pine that faces ocean 



Mounts this rover, gay and brave! 



— George Bancroft Griffith 



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