A bright eyed boy was sleeping upon a bank of blossoming clover. The
cool breeze lifted the curls from his brow, and fanned with downy wings
his quiet slumbers, while he lay under the refreshing shade of a large
maple tree. The birds sang to him during his happy hours of sleep. By
and by he awoke, and a beautiful gold robin sat on the spray, and sung
a song of joy. The boy reached out his hands to secure the prize, but
the robin spread his golden wings and soared away. He looked after it
with a longing gaze, and when it disappeared from his sight, he wept
aloud. At this moment, a form of light approached, and took the hands of
the child and pointed upwards; and he saw the bird soaring in freedom
and the sun shining upon its burnished plumes. Then the shining one
said; "Do you love that beautiful bird?" In the midst of his tears the
child replied, "Oh, yes." "Then," said the angel, "shall it not wing its
flight from flower to flower and be happy, rather than to dwell in a
prison with thee?" Then the streams and flowering vales of Elysium, that
breathe the pure air of freedom, spake: "Wouldst thou bring her back to
thee, and make her a prisoner? Dry up thy tears, and let thy song be,
'Stay not here, but speed thy flight, O bright one, and snuff the
mellow air of freedom.' God made the birds to be happy in their short
existence, and ought we to deprive them of their own elements of
happiness, and take from them the freedom which they enjoy?"