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Sonnets, Lyrics and Translations

By the Rev. Charles Turner [i.e. Charles Tennyson]
 

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ON SOME HUMMING-BIRDS IN A GLASS CASE.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 


67

ON SOME HUMMING-BIRDS IN A GLASS CASE.

For vacant song behold a shining theme!
These dumb-struck flutterers from Indian land,
The colour on whose crests, sweet Nature's hand,
Fulfils our richest thought of crimson gleam;
Whose wings, thus spread and balanc'd forth, might seem
Slender as serpent's tongue or fairy's wand—
And, as with vantage of the sun we stand,
Each glossy bosom kindles in his beam;
Ah me! how soon does human death impair
The tender beauty of the fairest face,
Whatever balms and unguents we prepare!
While these resplendent creatures bear no trace,
Bright-bosom'd and bright-crested as they are,
No soil, nor token of the tomb's disgrace!