eee 168 SONGS FOR THE i N oo AY AHI AS |W Nic WS li An \ \N , = Abb 1 ‘ M NW \ We =_—— —- «What is that, mother ?” The eagle, boy, Proudly careering his course with joy, Firm on his own mountain vigor relying, Breasting the dark storm, the red bolt defying ; His wing on the wind, and his eye on the sun, Heswervesnota hair, but bears onward, righton. Boy, may the eagle’s flight ever be thine, Onward and upward and true to the line. “ What is that, mother?” The swan, my love; He is floating down from his native grove, No loved one now, no nestling nigh ; He is floating down by himself to die: bc he