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 



