THE BIRD AT SEA.
177
How should'st thou battle
With storm and with spray?
Bird of the greenwood!
Away, away!
Or art thou seeking
Some brighter land,
Where by the south-wind
Vine leaves are fanned?
Midst the wild billows
Why then delay?
Bird of the greenwood!
Away, away!
"Chide not my lingering
Where storms are dark;
A hand that hath nursed me
Is in the bark;
N
