The Birdlet

I. 171.

God's birdlet knows

Nor care, nor toil;

Nor weaves it painfully

An everlasting nest.

Thro' the long night on the twig it slumbers;

When rises the red sun

Birdie listens to the voice of God

And it starts, and it sings.

When Spring, Nature's Beauty,

And the burning summer have passed,

And the fog, and the rain,

By the late fall are brought,

Men are wearied, men are grieved,

But birdie flies into distant lands,

Into warm climes, beyond the blue sea:

Flies away until the spring.

1824.

THE CLOUD.

IV. 95.

O last cloud of the scattered storm,

Alone thou sailest along the azure clear;

Alone thou bringest the shadow sombre,

Alone thou marrest the joyful day.

Thou but recently had'st encircled the sky

When sternly the lightning was winding about thee;

Thou gavest forth mysterious thunder,

With rain hast watered the parched earth.

Enough! Hie thyself: thy time hath passed:

Earth is refreshed; the storm hath fled;

And the breeze, fondling the trees' leaves

Forth thee chases from the quieted heavens!

1835.

THE NORTH WIND.

IV. 94.

Why, O wrathful north wind, thou

The marshy shrub dost downward bend?

Why thus in the distant sky-vault

Wrathfully the cloud dost chase?

The black clouds but recently

Had spread the whole heavens o'er,

The oak on hill top but recently

In beauty wondrous itself was priding.

Thou hast risen, and up hast played,

With terror resounded, and with splendor--

And away are driven the stormy clouds;

Down is hurled the mighty oak.

Let now then the sun's clear face

With joy henceforth ever shine,

With the clouds now the zephyr play,

And the bush in quiet sway.

1824.