I WOULD I WERE THE LIGHT-WINGED BIRD.
I would I were the light-winged bird
That carols on the breezy air,
When summer songs of joy are heard,
And fields and skies are fair!
When verdure lives on every tree,
And beauty blooms o’er land and sea.
Then when the morn to deck her brow,
A chaplet weaves of golden light,
And sparkle on each waving bough
Her gems, like diamonds bright—
I’d spring to greet her with my song,
The gayest of the festive throng.
When silent noon usurped the sky,
I’d hide me in the forest shade,
Where leaves and blossoms, twined on high,
An arching shelter made—
While cooling streams, the earth to bless,
Came gliding from the green recess.
Of gladness wearied, I would go
To seek the lonely captive’s cell;
There, in his hours of bitterest wo,
Of peace and hope to tell,
I’d sing of freedom in his ear,
And he should smile, that song to hear.
And where the brave ship ploughed the sea,
Her stately course I’d mark on high:
The sailor, as he gazed on me,
Should deem his home was nigh—
Each voice in all that shouting band
Should bless the herald of the land.
New joys the fleeting hours would bring;
And when the summer’s feast was o’er,
I’d hie me on unwearied wing
To some far favored shore—
My vanished pleasures to renew
’Neath suns as bright, and skies as blue.