 | Drift-Weed |  |
149
THE KITTIWAKES.
Like white feathers blown about the rocks,
Like soft snow-flakes wavering in the air,
Wheel the Kittiwakes in scattered flocks,
Crying, floating, fluttering everywhere.
Like soft snow-flakes wavering in the air,
Wheel the Kittiwakes in scattered flocks,
Crying, floating, fluttering everywhere.
Shapes of snow and cloud, they soar and whirl:
Downy breasts that shine like lilies white;
Delicate vaporous tints of gray and pearl
Laid upon their arching wings so light.
Downy breasts that shine like lilies white;
Delicate vaporous tints of gray and pearl
Laid upon their arching wings so light.
Eyes of jet and beaks and feet of gold,—
Lovelier creatures never sailed in air;
Innocent, inquisitive, and bold,
Knowing not the dangers that they dare.
Lovelier creatures never sailed in air;
Innocent, inquisitive, and bold,
Knowing not the dangers that they dare.
Stooping now above a beckoning hand,
Following gleams of waving kerchiefs white,
What should they of evil understand,
Though the gun awaits them full in sight?
Following gleams of waving kerchiefs white,
What should they of evil understand,
Though the gun awaits them full in sight?
150
Though their blood the quiet wave makes red,
Though their broken plumes float far and wide,
Still they linger, hovering overhead,
Still the gun deals death on every side.
Though their broken plumes float far and wide,
Still they linger, hovering overhead,
Still the gun deals death on every side.
Oh, begone, sweet birds, or higher soar!
See you not your comrades low are laid?
But they only flit and call the more,—
Ignorant, unconscious, undismayed.
See you not your comrades low are laid?
But they only flit and call the more,—
Ignorant, unconscious, undismayed.
Nay, then, boatman, spare them! Must they bear
Pangs like these for human vanity?
That their lovely plumage we may wear
Must these fair, pathetic creatures dies?
Pangs like these for human vanity?
That their lovely plumage we may wear
Must these fair, pathetic creatures dies?
Let the tawny squaws themselves admire,
Decked with feathers—we can wiser be.
Ah, beseech you, boatman, do not fire!
Stain no more with blood the tranquil sea.
Decked with feathers—we can wiser be.
Ah, beseech you, boatman, do not fire!
Stain no more with blood the tranquil sea.
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