While glow the heavens with the last steps of day

    Far through their rosy depths dost thou pursue

    Thy solitary way？

    Vainly the fowler's eye

    Might mark thy distant flight to do thee wrong

    As darkly seen against the crimson sky

    Thy figure floats along.

    Seek'st thou the plashy brink

    Of weedy lake or marge of river wide

    Or where the rocking billows rise and sink

    On the chafed ocean-side？

    There is a Power whose care

    Teaches thy way along that pathless coast—

    The desert and illimitable air—

    Lone wandering but not lost.

    All day thy wings have fanned

    At that far height the cold thin atmosphere

    Yet stoop not weary to the welcome land

    Though the dark night is near.