48 Bird Day Book 



The Swan, in majesty and grace, 



Contemplative and still : 

 But roused, — no Falcon, in the chase, 



Could like his satire kill. 



The Linnet in simplicity, 



In tenderness the Dove; 

 But more than all beside was he 



The Nightingale in love. 



Oh ! had he never stoop'd to shame, 



Nor lent a charm to vice, 

 How had Devotion loved to name 



The Bird of Paradise ! 



Peace to the dead ! — In Scotia's choir 



Of Minstrels great and small, 

 He sprang from his spontaneous fire, 



The Phoenix of them all. 



