Thou hermit bird of tender sight!
Ha! well thou fliest from the light,
To lie in secret and repose,
Hid in some crevice no one knows;
And, wrapt in slumber's lightest sleep,
Thy ears their vigils ever keep,
Lest some stray wanderer may intrude,
To mar thy sacred solitude.
Thy pinions only bear thee out
To search for plunder and to scout
For prey, in soft and noiseless flight,
When earth lies in repose, and night
Has drawn her curtain o'er the sky.
'Tis then, 'tis then thy tender eye
Is keen to see, reviewing all
Which under its quick glance may fall.
MINNIE LEE.
A PICTURE.
A maiden came to Castletown;
A tear stood in her eye;
Soon on her cheek it trickled down;
Sore did the maiden cry.
I called her to my side, and said,
"Why, maiden, do you cry?"
A while her weeping then was stayed,
But she made no reply.
I spoke to her, in kindly tones,
Of friendship and of love;
I asked about her loved ones,
And where she meant to rove.
She, with a voice in sadness lost,
And choked with many a sigh,
Said that her father's form was toss'd
Beneath the billows high.
Her mother had for many years
Been silent in the grave;
Her brother, too, she told in tears,
Was killed--a soldier brave.
And now her father's friends withheld
The friendship once they gave;
And she, an orphan lone, beheld
No succour but the grave.
She then besought some menial form
Of duty to fulfil,
And gladly would the child conform
To many a trying ill.
I said, "Dear maiden, come with me;
My home shall too be thine,
And with my daughters ye shall be
Another child of mine."
And then she wept for very joy;
Her tongue would not convey
The words she sought it to employ
What thanks she longed to say.
And with, a trembling step she came,
And, ere a little while,
Her joys returned, of old the same,
And came her olden smile.
And she by all was fondly loved;
She was so good and kind,
And gentle in her way, and proved
A charm of charms combined.
Years rolled away, eight happy years,
Since the memorial day;
Then in the town gay joy appears,
And merry minstrels play.
And loudly peal the merry bells;
It is her wedding-day;
It is my son who gladly tells
"I will," I love to say.