His heart was pure: he loved the child
That dwelt among untrodden ways
And dared to lift his voice in praise
Of humblest wight in highlands wild.
Poor, wretched man by sin defiled,
He sang in sympathetic lays—
His heart was pure.
The blithe cuckoo and daisy mild,
The daffodils, like elfin fays,
The mystery of sunset haze
O'er barren moors, his pen beguiled—
His heart was pure.
THE RED BIRD
Animated, flashing, flame of scarlet,
Teasing, tantalizing, madcap varlet,
Glooming, glinting through the boughs,
Making, breaking lover's vows;
Dashing leader of the choir,
Standing on the topmost spire,
Scintillating song and fire,
Calls me: Come up—come up—higher, higher, higher!
Daytime meteor trailing light,
Like a shooting star at night—
Just a moment of delight,
Followed by a mad desire:
But the flaming flash of scarlet,
Tantalizing madcap varlet,
Hiding from my aching sight—
This time just a little nigher—
Laughing from his leafy height,
Mocks me: Come up—come up—higher, higher, higher!