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SKETCHES. 359
The flames of the light-house — kind reader, pray
Think of the nuptial torches so gay,
They ’re turning and turning and turning to-day.
THE EAGLESS.
Ir was morning, and the sun was shining brightly. The
Eagle’s sister sat in her eyrie upon the cliff, looking with
longing eyes into bright space, involuntarily raising her
Wings, untried as yet. Proudly heaved her breast.
“ Towards the sun! Up, towards the sun!” thus a voice
seemed to say within her. ‘“ Why should not I also see
the glorious one nearer, bathe my eye in his light, and drink
strength from his rays? Why should not the pilgrimage
of the Eagless to the sun be praised in song, as well as
that of the Eagle? My sight is strong, my wings young,
my will powerful; up, up, towards the sun, towards the
sun!”
She flew. The morning, the sunlight, and the freshness
of endless space, the feeling of youthful vigor and energy
filled her breast with delight.
In order to rest herself awhile, to look round and enjoy
the new, beautiful life, she perched upon the top of an oak.
In the woods below all kinds of birds had flocked to-
gether. They had witnessed her bold flight.
“ Trillili, well, well, trillili!” sang the larks, exultingly ;
“fly on, Eagless, thou wilt be the glory of thy sex!”
“Courage!” cried a noble heron, “courage, my little
friend !”
“Hail, sister, hail!” sang the white swans, sailing
among verdant islets.
“ Croak, croak!” croaked the crow, “that flight is dan-
gerous ; take care of yourself, my dear young lady.”
“ Coo-coo-coo!” cooed the dove; “why dost thou seek
happiness so far away? Stay at home in your nest; warm
yourself beside your mate; hatch your eggs and feed your
young ones, and you may live many, many years! Coo-
coo-coo ! ”
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