THE SANDPIPER.
The glitter of the sunlit river
In his flashing, fearless eye,
There on his unwearied pinions
See the bird go sailing by!
Slender, sword-like wings, and dainty,
How they cut the thin air now!
And without a trace of languor
Soars he to the mountain’s brow.
Back again—for whim has moved him—
And where rippling water lies,
Scanning all the shore line closely,
Light as thistle-down he flies!
On the white sand scarce a footprint
Makes he, touching here and there;
Singing his two notes so gladly,
Ah, this bird is passing fair!
Sweet content in voice and motion;
Following plash of many a wave;
Or o’er pine that faces ocean
Mounts this rover, gay and brave!
—George Bancroft Griffith.