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The Comrades

Poems Old & New: By William Canton
  

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The Kingfisher
  
  
  
  
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46

The Kingfisher

Not where the shining spaces of the mere
Lie blue and clear,
But where the brook's small waters run
Reflecting emerald leaves and chinks of sun,
On a dead branch, in solitude
It watches for its fleeting food,—
The Kingfisher!
So, poised on dead and dying things,
Not in the glare of life, but in the sought,
Dim, tranquil umbrage of sequester'd thought,
The soul keeps vigil o'er the living springs.

47

Bright bird, thine azure wings, thy ruddy breast—
The colours of the furrow and the sky—
Remind me that at worst and best
Akin to earth and aimed for heaven am I.
Leaf-cloistered in a solitary reach,
Thou keepest watch without a mate,
Without a song;
Even so the soul that would await
Joy by the living springs must linger long,
Withdrawn from human fellowship and speech.
Hark! dry wood snaps. Who dares intrude
Upon thy sea-green solitude?
(Hush! hush!) No human will shall do
Thy spirit wrong; thou shalt be left alone.
Alas, one flash of blue—
Heaven's colour—tells that thou art flown.