of the crimson sunset skies, where indeed he seems to have nested, and
whence to have come as a messenger of beauty, bearing on his wings the
light of his diviner home. With almost everything that he touches this high
herald of the trees is in contrast . . . when . . . he is left alone on the edge of
that northern world which he has dared invade and inhabit, it is then amid
black clouds and drifting snows that the gorgeous cardinal stands forth in
the ideal picture of his destiny. For it is then that his beauty is most
conspicuous, and that Death, lower of the peerless, strikes at him afar."
"One bright morning, loud and clear,
Its whistle note my drowsy ear.
Ten times repeated, till the sound
Filled every echoing niche around;
And all things easiest loved by me,
The bird, the brook, the flower, the tree-
Came back again, as thus I heard-
The cardinal bird."
William Davis Gallagher