Between the mortal and the spirit-land,
Till called by God, through Nature’s changeless laws,
He starts a winged creature clad in light,
With tints of morning blushing on his wings.
The fisher’s boat along the river glides,
Nor leaves a ripple in its shallow wake.
The wild swan sports in Anicosta’s wave,
And deems his shadow his departed mate;
The patient heron, on the wave-washed rock
For hours stands, watching his suspecting prey;