The Angel of The Desert and Other Poems

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Sweet "Bird of Beauty," whither comes thou? With sylph-like form, and radiance all aglow, With golden hues, and silver lines among, An exile from some lend of "light and song," Some land more near to heaven, than it to us appears, Some home of fairy birds in bright enchanting spheres.

Unlike all other birds that fly on earth; Where had such grace and loveliness its birth? In slightest breath, the gentlest breeze may blow, Thy phantom plumage waveth to and fro, Then wafts thee upward on airy pinions borne To those fair bowers thy presence doth adorn,

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