Like Southern Birds

by Elizabeth F. Ellet

Like southern birds, whose wings of light
   Are cold and hueless while at rest—
But spread to soar in upward flight,
   Appear in glorious plumage drest;

The poet's soul—while darkly close
   Its pinions, bids no passion glow;
But roused at length from dull repose,
   Lights, while it spurns, the world below.