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THE ORIGIN OF BIRDS.
The Indians of the Shasta Mountains tell
A legend strange and beautiful. They say That the Great Spirit stepped from cloud to cloud,
In the primeval day,
And first upon the dome of Shasta stood,
The spotless face of new-born earth to see, And everywhere He touched the land, upsprang
A green, luxuriant tree.
Beyond the moons that bcam, the suns that blaze,
Pleased with the sight, the splendor of His smile
Melted the snows and made the rivers run, And soon the branches tossed their leafy plumes
And blossomed in the sun.
Day after day while that first summer shone
He watched with fresh delight the growing trees; But autumn came, and fast the bright leaves fell,
Swept by the keener breeze,
Yet were they radiant now, in every hue
Of red and gold which could with sunset vie; Looking on them He loved them, - they were still
Too beautiful to die!
It is the morning land of the Ideal,
Thrilled by His quickening gaze, each leaf renewed
Its life, and floated buoyantly along;
Its gladness grew to song.
The cardinal-bird the maple's splendors bore, The yellow-bird the willow's faded gold
In living plumage wore. Even the pale-brown leaves the pageant joined,
Sparrow and lark awakened to rejoice, And though they were less fair, He gave to them
The more melodious voice.
Wait for me there, O loved of many days!
Since then the birds close kinship with the trees
Have ever kept, and build the yearly nest Beneath the fragrant shelter of the boughs,
As on a mother's breast.
1. AMONG the thousand, thousand spheres that roll, Wheel within wheel, through never-ending space, A mighty and interminable race, Yet held by some invisible control, And led as to a sure and shining goal, One star alone with still, unchanging face, Looks out from her perpetual dwelling-place, Of these swift orbs the centre and the soul.
RAINBOW. Bridge of enchantment! for a moment hung Between the tears of earth and smiles of heaven
- The Rainboro,
Her service of peace to share,
- The Vigil of the Year,
- Mount Hamilton,