John Ainslie.
A MELODY.
Afar and near, afar and wide,
The murm’ring chant of a running stream,
Across the rocks to the brimming tide
Of the shining sea, its waters gleam.
Low in the beeches, hid from sight,
A robin is singing a song so sweet,
Its rapturous melody seems a flight
Of song from Heaven’s own azure deep.