In the city and the open,
Man has built or tilled the land;
But the home of the wood pigeon
Bears the touch of God's own hand.
Anon.
THE SHAG.
"What is that great bird, sister, tell me,
Perched high on the top of the crag?"
"'Tis the cormorant, dear little brother;
The fishermen call it the shag."
"But what does it there, sister, tell me,
Sitting lonely against the black sky?"
"It has settled to rest, little brother;
It hears the wild gale wailing high."
"But I am afraid of it, sister,
For over the sea and the land
It gazes, so black and so silent!"
"Little brother, hold fast to my hand."
"Oh, what was that, sister? The thunder?
Did the shag bring the storm and the cloud,
The wind and the rain and the lightning?"
"Little brother, the thunder roars loud.
"Run fast, for the rain sweeps the ocean;
Look! over the lighthouse it streams;
And the lightning leaps red, and above us
The gulls fill the air with their screams."