POETRY.

ONE FLIGHT.

I WISHED for the wings of a bird to fly Into the blue heights of the sky.

Sudden I sprang from the scented grass ; I saw tall trees like flower-stalks pass.

The clouds above me greater grew That had scarcely before obscured the blue.

Then lost I seemed in a great grey mist, No sight to look to, no sound to list.

Up and up, till the wide, wide sky Burst like an ocean on my eye.

I stayed my flying and hung a-poise ; No echo reached me of earthly noise.

I bung o'er the head of the cloud below, Soft as a hill-top heaped with snow.

I gazed on the blue heights over me, And felt for a moment I was free.

I was free to fly where I would in space ;

My thoughts were free from the world's worn face.

A moment the thought of freedom won Thrilled me ; I turned to greet the sun.

Ah ! like a great red ball be lay Hard at the henceward gates of day.

E'en as I gazed the portal ope'd, And fainter and fainter the great rays sloped.

He was gone, and a fear came over me ; I thought no more of the joy to be free.

But I thought of the night, of the dark and the chill, Of the long slow hours, the voiceless still.

Above was the desert sky unknown ; Below cloud-seas; here was I alone.

Lonely I felt, as when children wake In the night, and cry for the terror's sake.

And I cared no more for the wings to be free, So that the dear earth I might see.

Downward, downward, now closed the cloud, Glimmering and chill as a dead man's shroud.

An hour or a moment ?—Lo the earth lay bare, In the white moon's rising radiance fair.

A world of shadows, with nothing clear ; A world of darkness, but oh I how dear ! Downward, downward; the moon on the vane Gleams bright, lo a light in a window-pane.

I touched the ground, its scent I knew ; I kissed each grass—bent damp with dew.

My wings were gone, I was free no more ; But gone were the vain wishes felt before.

And I knelt, while my thanks went up to God,

For the love that binds man to the sod. F. W. B.