Then suddenly a sunbeam
Shot slanting o'er the hill,
And once again from out the sky
I heard that honied trill.
And there upon a poplar,
Poised at its topmost height,
I saw a little singer clad
In scarlet plumage bright.
The poplar branches quivered,
By dawn winds lightly blown,
And like a breeze-swept poppy-flower
The red-bird rocked and shone.
The blue sky, and his feathers
Flashed o'er by golden light,
Oh, all my heart with rapture thrilled,
It was so sweet a sight!
THE WEATHER-VANE
Turn, turn, when pelting rain
Rushes down the window-pane;
Turn, turn, and turn again
When the sun shines, weather-vane!
Fie! Fie! to always be
Emblem of uncertainty!
Followed by the restless sea,
Changeful moons may wax and wane,
Yet the moons and sea-tides, too,
Constant are compared to you!
Fickle still you must remain
Long as winds blow, weather-vane!