Joy swells melodious in his throat,
Joy quivers in his wings.

No cunning show of art severe,
But soft and low his lay-
A sunbeam shining to the ear—
Spring's softest, brightest ray.

Those magic tones call from the past

The sunny hours of youth;

And shining hopes come thronging fast
From worlds of love and truth.

The harmony is seen and heard;

For notes and rays combine,

And joys and hopes, and sun and bird,

All seem to sing and shine.

Is not that strain an Æolian of Spirit Land-a "Sunbeam shining to the ear"—than which old Herrick never produced a more dainty image.

But let us take leave of these gentle recreations "out of Doors with Nature" with a bit of Rhymed Philosophy that may have its uses in reconciling men to our desultory mode of treating such heretofore strait-laced and science-encrusted themes.

COMMON NATURE.

Every flower that bears an odor,
Gives it to the common wind,

Every star that lives in beaming

Sends a ray to common mind.

Scentless flowers give too their blessing,

From the splendors on their lips,

Every fitful air caressing,

Splendor out of splendor sips.

Tuneless birds tell too their story-
Out on rustling glancing plumes-
Each gives back the sun its glory,
When the shadow it illumes.

CHAPTER XVI.

THE GHOST-FLOWER, AND CHILD.

A DREAM.

A shaded creature, dim and fair, With thin, transparent colors of the gloom;A flower-stalagmite, cold and rare, Chiseled by Gnomes of caverned air,

With dew-sweats on it, gathered there— Then moon-drawn upward into sudden bloom.

I.

Elfin are Wonders-and Elfin are we
Elfin is everything under the sea!-

They know the godly, where elephants kneel,
They know ungodly, where petty things reel-
Think him ungodly who knows but himself—
Ah, ha! ungodly is only the Elf!

A Child comes forth, within his eyes
A mournful splendor darkened lies—
A great Bird perching on his arm,
Hears the sad song that fain would charm
This Tom Todd of the world to stay.
But Tom Todd has no time for play-
The world and Tom Todd turn away!

THE CHILD'S SONG.

II.

Tom Todd, Tom Todd come here! I have brought to you a fierce bird,— Tom Todd, come here?

Tom Todd won't come!

Tom Todd! Tom Todd, come here? I have brought you a bird that singeth so! Tom Todd, come here?—

Tom Todd wont come!

Tom Todd! Tom Todd, come here? For this strange bird you should hear!Tom Todd! Tom Todd, come here ?Tom Todd wont come!

Tom Todd! Tom Todd, come here?
Tom Todd, I pray you come here?
I've brought you a singing eagle !—
Tom Todd, come here?
Tom Todd wont come!-

Tom Todd's a fool!

Tom Todd, the world is sad!-
He singeth on wing a rustling song,
And all things fear him on the ground;
He's fierce, Tom Todd, but he is not bad.

He singeth chorus to the storms—
Sings glory to the upper air!

He wingeth fiercely the dark clouds,
To break in whirling all their shrouds.
He floateth on the coming gleams,

And is the first to feel the beams

That God lets fall from yellow suns.

He shakes the clouds that rain down blood.
All beautiful, and strong, and good,
He is the sky's bold robber still.-
When meaning of his life you seek,
He vanishes in lofty cloud,

And screameth down defiance proud.
The clarion screamer, high and loud-
The type and note of Liberty-
Of conquering struggles of the free-
He comes like warriors suddenly;
In fell and silent swoop

He comes so fell a-flying,
It sounds most like the sighing
Of stricken roe-buck dying,
When the feathered arrow sped.

And then he scorns to touch the dead,

E'en though there be much plunder there;

He leaves it to the vulture dread

His carrion to tear!

He scorneth, like the Lion-cat,

To touch a prey he hath not slain,
It must be won by might and main-
He drinketh no cold blood like that!
Like proud, exulting Thought, on high,
He has strong wings, and why not he,
Be type of all wild liberty?

Thoughts like him go up toward heaven,
And even souls such wings are given,
And glory, beauty, sunlight first,

Are too thrown down by him from heaven,

And yet of all things winged the worst

If bloody talons, bloody beak,

Are the types by which you speak!
And yet this blood has set us free!
Blood broke our chains espirituelie,—

All earth is bloody, and must be—
Blood is life and blood is strength,
Blood is glory, and at length

Must robe us for Eternity!

The eagle sings this where the cataract's heard,

And earth shivered and shaken is frightened sore,

While the water comes down with a frown and a roar. Tom Todd no more!

I will not tell you the story I bore,

Ye are not worthy to hear such lore,

You have not the thought, the heart or the height, You never will know the strange power of might. Tom Todd won't come,

Tom Todd's a fool!

III.

Elfin are wonders and Elfin are we,
Elfin is everything under the sea !—

He stays on the surface-mocks at all things-
The sad one who all activity brings-

He laughs and mocks us while coldly he flings
The winter that comes of nightly decay ;—
Winter is lighter than thoughts that we know
There's no dull wretchedness coupled with woe.

Take the Black Bird from me now,
There is fever on my brow!-

Yes, the red is on its wing

And this red good hope should bring!
Yes, and there was yellow too,

Yellow goeth up the blue

To where thrones of Power are placed-

Where no gentle thing erased

Is driven to a stupid Hell

Of Bigotrie

Where all are free!