His wings were redder
Than dawn's early blush
His temple was of cedar
Holiest amongst the thrush

There birds from all regions flown
At the holy pilgrimage
The dove in priest's gown
There paid his homage

At the end of morn
When sun prouder yet
There, nature falls out of form
Yet it's sacraments are kept

So now dear friend, if you hear
Such tales of holy flight
Pray, do keep close ear
Such wisdom has sight

Twas the world they knew
One of air and song
A world of feather bright and blue
A world of feather right and wrong
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