Page:The Sad Years.djvu/86

MIGRATORY BIRDS (Continued) To the soft, song-laden wind Leant in hope and half in fear, One low perfect note to find In the joyous tumult here.

There's no bird upon the wing, There's no fledgeling in the nest, There's no song where others sing More glorious than the rest.

Is he caged without release Who makes all lovely things to be? What holds the gentle bird of Peace, God's hand, or human frailty? [78]