Explore "Night and Morning, Book III" by Edward Bulwer-lytton on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
"A silver river small In sweet accents Its music vents; The warbling virginal To which the merry birds do sing, Timed with stops of gold the silver string. " _Sir Richard Fanshawe_.
One evening, several weeks after the events just commemorated, a stranger, leading in his hand, a young child, entered the churchyard of H -- . The sun had not long set, and the short twilight of deepening summer reigned in the tranquil skies; you might still hear from the trees above the graves the chirp of some joyous bird; -- what cared he, the denizen of the skies, for the dead that slept below? -- what did he value save the greenness and repose of the spot, -- to him alike the garden or the grave! As the man and the child passed, the robin, scarcely scared by their tread from the long grass beside one of the mounds, looked at them with its bright, blithe eye. It was a famous plot for the robin -- the old churchyard! That domestic bird -- "the friend of man," as it has been called by the poets -- found a jolly supper among the worms!