Part 3 — LINES TO A SEABIRD.
Reading edition
Bird of the stormy wave! bird of the sea! Wide is thy sweep, and thy course is free; Cleaving the blue air, and brushing the foam, Air is thy field of sport, ocean thy home.
Bird of the sea! I could envy thy wing, O'er the blue waters I mark thy glad spring; I see thy strong pinions as onward I glide, Dashed by the foam of the white-crested tide. M. A. STODART.