No. 10

POETRY. p Q

TO A FLIGHT OF WILD GEESE. BY MRS. INDIA JANE PETERSON.
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TO A FLIGHT OF WILD GEESE.

 BY MRS. LYDIA JANE pIERsoY, Dark wing'd couriers of the sky, Riding on the stormy air, Shouting forth your clarion cry, Winter comes Prepare Prepare Tell me ye who ride the waves. Ne who breast the thunder storms Issuing from the Northern caves, Saw ye Winters icy storm! Iinfs and seasons mystic lore. How did ye, wild birds, attain' Which Astfologera of yore PeEli'd souls to find, in vain. Read ye on the page of Heaven That which wandering planets write Are the flaming meteores given Signals for yourume oi ilight' Or do spigit voices come From the night clouds drifting car, Whispering through your summer home Ot loyeller land aiar. Do ye, on your mighty sail. Float najestcaliy forth, When the current oi the gale Rolls its pillows from the Northl Tell me Oh ye free, and strong. Shouting thus upon the air, N here ye love and rear your young? Where your summer dwellings are Lie they where some lucid lake Looks to heaven with dimpling smiles. While its whispering Waveiets break Round the feet ol fairy isles Rich with spirit haunted bowers, Where the languid South wind comes, Dreaming through the noon tide houn, Graded by the balmy blooms Where soft as angels dreams Lie there lingering twilight hours Aud the moons pellacid beams, Steal like spirits through the bowers-- Where the richest grasses spread Every where beneath your feet, And the wild rice bends its head, Offering delicious treat? Round these islands of delight, Fearless Of the threatening gale, ThEong'd upon the nipples bright, Did ye ike fair galieys sail? Trae'd ye many aloyely shore By the foot of man untrod, " here the robe that Nature wore Was the handiwori ol Con? Wither wing ye now your way?--- Will ye pass the wintry hours, Where the placid Southern Sea Sights along enchanted shofes2 Beautiful, and winged with might, Free as Freedoms mountain wind; Heedless ye pursue your flight, Leaving trace nor voice behind!