Pocahontas and Other Poems (New York)/Good-night of the Birds

by Lydia Huntley Sigourney

GOOD-NIGHT OF THE BIRDS.

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It was a Sabbath evening
    In spring's most glorious time,
When tree, and shrub, and early flower
    Were in their fragrant prime;
And where the cloudless sun declined,
    A glow of light serene,
A blessing on the world he left,
    Came floating o'er the scene.

Then from the verdant hedgerow
    A gentle descant stole,
And with its tide of melody
    Dissolved the listening soul,
The tenants of that leafy lodge,
    Each in its downy nest,
Pour'd forth a fond and sweet "good-night"
    Before they sank to rest.

That tender parting carol!
    How wild it was, and deep,
And then, with soft, harmonious close,
    It melted into sleep;
Methought, in yonder land of praise,
    Which faith delights to view,
True-hearted, peaceful worshippers,
    There might be room for you.

Ye give us many a lesson
    Of music high and rare,
Sweet teachers of the lays of heaven,
    Say, will ye not be there?
Ye have no sins, like ours, to purge
    With penitential dew;
Oh! in the clime of perfect love,
    Is there no place for you?