Fugitive Poetry. 1600–1878/The King-Fisher

The King-Fisher.

The Halcyon flew across the stream,And the silver brooklet caught the gleam;The glittering flash of his dazzling wingsWas such as the gorgeous rainbow flings,In broken rays through the tearful sky,On a sunny eve in bright July:His radiant sheen the trees between,Like the spangled scarf of a fairy queen,Was rich to the view, as the gayest hueOf the brightest flower that ever grew.

Its blended beam was brighter thanThe Orient lilies of Shushan,Twining around the brightest roseIn Sharon's scented vale that grows:The diamond drops from the brook that flashed,As along the crystal wave it dashed,Showed like the sunbeam glancing throughThe morning gems of pearly dew.A type of Hope it seemed to be,So soft, and fresh, and fair to see.