 | Drift-Weed |  |
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LITTLE GUSTAVA.
Little Gustava sits in the sun,
Safe in the porch, and the little drops run
From the icicles under the eaves so fast,
For the bright spring sun shines warm at last,
And glad is little Gustava.
Safe in the porch, and the little drops run
From the icicles under the eaves so fast,
For the bright spring sun shines warm at last,
And glad is little Gustava.
She wears a quaint little scarlet cap,
And a little green bowl she holds in her lap,
Filled with bread and milk to the brim,
And a wreath of marigolds round the rim:
“Ha, ha!” laughs little Gustava.
And a little green bowl she holds in her lap,
Filled with bread and milk to the brim,
And a wreath of marigolds round the rim:
“Ha, ha!” laughs little Gustava.
Up comes her little gray, coaxing cat,
With her little pink nose, and she mews, “What's that?”
Gustava feeds her,—she begs for more;
And a little brown hen walks in at the door:
“Good-day!” cries little Gustava.
With her little pink nose, and she mews, “What's that?”
Gustava feeds her,—she begs for more;
And a little brown hen walks in at the door:
“Good-day!” cries little Gustava.
She scatters crumbs for the little brown hen.
There comes a rush and a flutter, and then
Down fly her little white doves so sweet,
With their snowy wings and their crimson feet:
“Welcome!” cries little Gustava.
There comes a rush and a flutter, and then
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With their snowy wings and their crimson feet:
“Welcome!” cries little Gustava.
So dainty and eager they pick up the crumbs.
But who is this through the door-way comes?
Little Scotch terrier, little dog Rags,
Looks in her face, and his funny tail wags:
“Ha, ha!” laughs little Gustava.
But who is this through the door-way comes?
Little Scotch terrier, little dog Rags,
Looks in her face, and his funny tail wags:
“Ha, ha!” laughs little Gustava.
“You want some breakfast, too?” and down
She sets her bowl on the brick floor brown;
And little dog Rags drinks up her milk,
While she strokes his shaggy locks, like silk:
“Dear Rags!” says little Gustava.
She sets her bowl on the brick floor brown;
And little dog Rags drinks up her milk,
While she strokes his shaggy locks, like silk:
“Dear Rags!” says little Gustava.
Waiting without stood sparrow and crow,
Cooling their feet in the melting snow:
“Won't you come in, good folk?” she cried.
But they were too bashful, and stayed outside,
Though “Pray come in!” cried Gustava.
Cooling their feet in the melting snow:
“Won't you come in, good folk?” she cried.
But they were too bashful, and stayed outside,
Though “Pray come in!” cried Gustava.
So the last she threw them, and knelt on the mat
With doves and biddy and dog and cat.
And her mother came to the open house-door:
“Dear little daughter, I bring you some more,
My merry little Gustava!”
With doves and biddy and dog and cat.
And her mother came to the open house-door:
“Dear little daughter, I bring you some more,
My merry little Gustava!”
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Kitty and terrier, biddy and doves,
All things harmless Gustava loves.
The shy, kind creatures 'tis joy to feed,
And oh, her breakfast is sweet indeed
To happy little Gustava!
All things harmless Gustava loves.
The shy, kind creatures 'tis joy to feed,
And oh, her breakfast is sweet indeed
To happy little Gustava!
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THE DOUBLE SUNFLOWER.
The sunflowers hung their banners out in the sweet September weather;
A stately company they stood by the garden fence together,
And looked out on the shining sea that bright and brighter grew,
And slowly bowed their golden heads to every wind that blew.
A stately company they stood by the garden fence together,
And looked out on the shining sea that bright and brighter grew,
And slowly bowed their golden heads to every wind that blew.
But the double sunflower bloomed apart, far prouder than the rest,
And by his crown's majestic weight he seemed almost oppressed.
He held himself aloof upon his tall and slender stem,
And gloried in the splendor of his double diadem.
And by his crown's majestic weight he seemed almost oppressed.
He held himself aloof upon his tall and slender stem,
And gloried in the splendor of his double diadem.
All clothed in bells of lovely blue, a morning-glory vine
Could find no friendly stick or stalk about which she might twine;
And prone upon the ground near by, with blossoms red as fire,
A scarlet runner lay for lack of means to clamber higher.
Could find no friendly stick or stalk about which she might twine;
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A scarlet runner lay for lack of means to clamber higher.
They both perceived the sunflower tall who proudly stood aside;
Nothing to them was his grand air of majesty and pride;
With one accord they charged at him, and up his stalk they ran,
And straight to hang their red and blue all over him began.
Nothing to them was his grand air of majesty and pride;
With one accord they charged at him, and up his stalk they ran,
And straight to hang their red and blue all over him began.
Oh, then he was magnificent, all azure, gold, and flame!
But, woe is me! an autumn breeze from out the northwest came;
With all their leaves and flowers the vines about him closely wound,
And with that keen wind's help at once they dragged him to the ground.
But, woe is me! an autumn breeze from out the northwest came;
With all their leaves and flowers the vines about him closely wound,
And with that keen wind's help at once they dragged him to the ground.
I found him there next morning, his pomp completely wrecked,
His prostrate form all gorgeously with tattered blooms bedecked.
“Alas!” I said, “no power on earth your glory can recall!
Did you not know, dear sunflower, that pride must have a fall?”
His prostrate form all gorgeously with tattered blooms bedecked.
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Did you not know, dear sunflower, that pride must have a fall?”
I raised him up and bore him in, and, ere he faded quite,
In the corner he stood splendid a while for our delight;
But his humbler, single brethren, in the garden, every one,
With shining disks and golden rays stayed gazing at the sun.
In the corner he stood splendid a while for our delight;
But his humbler, single brethren, in the garden, every one,
With shining disks and golden rays stayed gazing at the sun.
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THE SHAG.
“What is that great bird, sister, tell me,
Perched high on the top of the crag?”
“'T is the cormorant, dear little brother;
The fishermen call it the shag.”
Perched high on the top of the crag?”
“'T is the cormorant, dear little brother;
The fishermen call it the shag.”
“But what does it there, sister, tell me,
Sitting lonely against the black sky?”
“It has settled to rest, little brother;
It hears the wild gale wailing high.”
Sitting lonely against the black sky?”
“It has settled to rest, little brother;
It hears the wild gale wailing high.”
“But I am afraid of it, sister,
For over the sea and the land
It gazes, so black and so silent!”
“Little brother, hold fast to my hand.”
For over the sea and the land
It gazes, so black and so silent!”
“Little brother, hold fast to my hand.”
“Oh what was that, sister? The thunder?
Did the shag bring the storm and the cloud,
The wind and the rain and the lightning?”
“Little brother, the thunder roars loud.
Did the shag bring the storm and the cloud,
The wind and the rain and the lightning?”
“Little brother, the thunder roars loud.
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“Run fast, for the rain sweeps the ocean;
Look! over the light-house it streams;
And the lightning leaps red, and above us
The gulls fill the air with their screams.”
Look! over the light-house it streams;
And the lightning leaps red, and above us
The gulls fill the air with their screams.”
O'er the beach, o'er the rocks, running swiftly,
The little white cottage they gain;
And safely they watch from the window
The dance and the rush of the rain.
The little white cottage they gain;
And safely they watch from the window
The dance and the rush of the rain.
But the shag kept his place on the headland,
And when the brief storm had gone by,
He shook his loose plumes, and they saw him
Rise splendid and strong in the sky.
And when the brief storm had gone by,
He shook his loose plumes, and they saw him
Rise splendid and strong in the sky.
Clinging fast to the gown of his sister,
The little boy laughed as he flew:
“He is gone with the wind and the lightning!
And—I am not frightened,—are you?”
The little boy laughed as he flew:
“He is gone with the wind and the lightning!
And—I am not frightened,—are you?”
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PERSEVERANCE.
Out I went in the morning, to look at my garden gay:
Everything shone with the dew-drops that sparkling and trembling lay
Scattered to left and to right, and the webs of the spiders were hung
Thickly with pearls and diamonds; light in the wind they swung.
Everything shone with the dew-drops that sparkling and trembling lay
Scattered to left and to right, and the webs of the spiders were hung
Thickly with pearls and diamonds; light in the wind they swung.
Down in a corner, my sunflower, tall as a lilac-tree,
Shook out his tattered golden flags, and bowed and nodded to me.
Rather heavy-headed was he; for that I did not care,
For he blazed all over with flowers, though rather the worse for wear.
Shook out his tattered golden flags, and bowed and nodded to me.
Rather heavy-headed was he; for that I did not care,
For he blazed all over with flowers, though rather the worse for wear.
And under the sunflower, on the fence, a little brown bird sat,
Trying to sing; you never heard such a queer little song as that!
A soft brown baby sparrow, without any tail at all,
Trying his voice as he sat alone beneath the sunflower tall.
Trying to sing; you never heard such a queer little song as that!
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Trying his voice as he sat alone beneath the sunflower tall.
He could n't sing in the least, you know; he quavered and quavered again,
Seeking so hard to recollect his father's beautiful strain!
But his young voice was hoarse and weak; he could not find the tune
He used to hear above the nest in the happy days of June.
Seeking so hard to recollect his father's beautiful strain!
But his young voice was hoarse and weak; he could not find the tune
He used to hear above the nest in the happy days of June.
But not at all was he daunted; he warbled it o'er and o'er,
And every time I thought it grew more comical than before.
The very sunflower seemed to laugh at the fluffy little bird,
His broad, bright faces seemed to say, “Was ever such music heard!”
And every time I thought it grew more comical than before.
The very sunflower seemed to laugh at the fluffy little bird,
His broad, bright faces seemed to say, “Was ever such music heard!”
I said, “Never mind, my darling; you 'll conquer it by and by,
For never baby or bird could fail, with so much courage to try!”
So I left him there, still singing, and I heard him every day
Doing bravely his little best, till winter drove him away
For never baby or bird could fail, with so much courage to try!”
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Doing bravely his little best, till winter drove him away
The dear bird and the golden flower! I mourned when chilly snow
Sent south the small musician and laid the sunflower low.
But I was sure, when in the spring the sparrows should return,
His singing would be perfect, for he strove so hard to learn.
Sent south the small musician and laid the sunflower low.
But I was sure, when in the spring the sparrows should return,
His singing would be perfect, for he strove so hard to learn.
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THE FLOCK OF DOVES.
The world was like a wilderness
Of soft and downy snow;
The trees were plumed with feathery flakes,
And the ground was white below.
Of soft and downy snow;
The trees were plumed with feathery flakes,
And the ground was white below.
Came the little mother out to the gate
To watch for her children three;
Her hood was red as a poppy-flower,
And rosy and young was she.
To watch for her children three;
Her hood was red as a poppy-flower,
And rosy and young was she.
She took the snow in her cunning hands
As waiting she stood alone,
And lo! in a moment, beneath her touch,
A fair white dove had grown.
As waiting she stood alone,
And lo! in a moment, beneath her touch,
A fair white dove had grown.
A flock she wrought, and on the fence
Set them in bright array,
With folded wings, or pinions spread,
Ready to fly away.
Set them in bright array,
With folded wings, or pinions spread,
Ready to fly away.
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And then she hid by the pine-tree tall,
For the children's tones rang sweet,
As home from school, through the drifts so light,
They sped with merry feet.
For the children's tones rang sweet,
As home from school, through the drifts so light,
They sped with merry feet.
“Oh, Nannie, Nannie! See the fence
Alive with doves so white!”
“Oh, hush! don't frighten them away!”
They whisper with delight.
Alive with doves so white!”
“Oh, hush! don't frighten them away!”
They whisper with delight.
They crept so soft, they crept so still,
The wondrous sight to see;
The little mother pushed the gate,
And laughed out joyfully.
The wondrous sight to see;
The little mother pushed the gate,
And laughed out joyfully.
She clasped them close, she kissed their cheeks,
And lips so sweet and red.
“The birds are only made of snow!
You are my doves,” she said.
And lips so sweet and red.
“The birds are only made of snow!
You are my doves,” she said.
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ROBIN'S RAIN-SONG.
O Robin, pipe no more of rain!
'T is four days since we saw the sun,
And still the misty window pane
Is loud with drops that leap and run.
'T is four days since we saw the sun,
And still the misty window pane
Is loud with drops that leap and run.
Four days ago the sky was clear,
But when my mother heard you call,
She said, “That 's Robin's rain-song, dear:
Oh, well he knows when rain will fall!”
But when my mother heard you call,
She said, “That 's Robin's rain-song, dear:
Oh, well he knows when rain will fall!”
Fair was the morning, and I wept
Because she would not let me stray
Into the woods for flowers, but kept
My feet from wandering away.
Because she would not let me stray
Into the woods for flowers, but kept
My feet from wandering away.
And I was vexed to hear you cry
So sweetly of the coming storm,
And watched with brimming eyes the sky
Grow cold and dim from clear and warm.
So sweetly of the coming storm,
And watched with brimming eyes the sky
Grow cold and dim from clear and warm.
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It seemed to me you brought it all
With that incessant, plaintive note;
And still you call the drops to fall
Upon your brown and scarlet coat.
With that incessant, plaintive note;
And still you call the drops to fall
Upon your brown and scarlet coat.
How nice to be a bird like you,
And let the rain come pattering down,
Nor mind a bit to be wet through,
Nor fear to spoil one's only gown!
And let the rain come pattering down,
Nor mind a bit to be wet through,
Nor fear to spoil one's only gown!
But since I cannot be a bird,
Sweet Robin, pipe no more of rain!
Your merrier music is preferred;
Forget at last that sad refrain!
Sweet Robin, pipe no more of rain!
Your merrier music is preferred;
Forget at last that sad refrain!
And tell us of the sunshine, dear—
I'm wild to be abroad again,
Seeking for blossoms far and near:
O Robin, pipe no more of rain!
I'm wild to be abroad again,
Seeking for blossoms far and near:
O Robin, pipe no more of rain!
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THE WANING MOON.
The moon is tired and old;
In the morning darkness cold
She drifts up the paling sky,
With cheek flushed wearily.
In the morning darkness cold
She drifts up the paling sky,
With cheek flushed wearily.
A little longer, and lo!
She is lost in the sun's bright glow;
A thin shell, pearly and pale,
'Mid soft white clouds that sail.
She is lost in the sun's bright glow;
A thin shell, pearly and pale,
'Mid soft white clouds that sail.
Art faint and sad, dear moon?
Gladness shall find thee soon!
Sorry art thou to wane?
Thou shalt be young again!
Gladness shall find thee soon!
Sorry art thou to wane?
Thou shalt be young again!
And beautiful as before
Thou shalt live in the sky once more;
From the baby crescent small
Thou shalt grow to the golden ball:
Thou shalt live in the sky once more;
From the baby crescent small
Thou shalt grow to the golden ball:
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And again will the children shout,
“Oh look at the moon, look out!”
For thou shalt be great and bright
As when God first made night.
“Oh look at the moon, look out!”
For thou shalt be great and bright
As when God first made night.
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THE KINGFISHER.
Could you have heard the kingfisher scream and scold at me
When I went this morning early down to the smiling sea!
He clamored so loud and harshly, I laughed at him for his pains,
And off he flew with a shattered note, like the sound of falling chains.
When I went this morning early down to the smiling sea!
He clamored so loud and harshly, I laughed at him for his pains,
And off he flew with a shattered note, like the sound of falling chains.
He perched on the rock above me, and kept up such a din,
And looked so fine with his collar snow-white beneath his chin,
And his cap of velvet, black and bright, and his jacket of lovely blue,
I looked, admired, and called to him, “Good morning! How do you do?”
And looked so fine with his collar snow-white beneath his chin,
And his cap of velvet, black and bright, and his jacket of lovely blue,
I looked, admired, and called to him, “Good morning! How do you do?”
But his kingship was so offended! He had n't a pleasant word,
Only the crossest jargon ever screamed by a bird.
The gray sandpiper on one leg stood still in sheer surprise,
And gazed at me, and gazed at him, with shining bead-black eyes,
Only the crossest jargon ever screamed by a bird.
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And gazed at me, and gazed at him, with shining bead-black eyes,
And pensively sent up so sweet and delicate a note,
Ringing so high and clear from out her dainty, mottled throat,
That echo round the silent shore caught up the clear refrain,
And sent the charming music back again, and yet again.
Ringing so high and clear from out her dainty, mottled throat,
That echo round the silent shore caught up the clear refrain,
And sent the charming music back again, and yet again.
And the brown song-sparrow on the wall made haste with such a song,
To try and drown that jarring din! but it was all too strong.
And the swallows, like a steel-blue flash, swept past and cried aloud,
“Be civil, my dear kingfisher, you 're far too grand and proud.”
To try and drown that jarring din! but it was all too strong.
And the swallows, like a steel-blue flash, swept past and cried aloud,
“Be civil, my dear kingfisher, you 're far too grand and proud.”
But it was n't of any use at all, he was too much displeased,
And only by my absence could his anger be appeased.
So I wandered off, and as I went I saw him flutter down,
And take his place once more upon the seaweed wet and brown.
And only by my absence could his anger be appeased.
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And take his place once more upon the seaweed wet and brown.
And there he watched for his breakfast, all undisturbed at last,
And many a little fish he caught as it was swimming past.
And I forget his harsh abuse, for, up in the tall elm-tree,
A purple finch sat high and sang a heavenly song for me.
And many a little fish he caught as it was swimming past.
And I forget his harsh abuse, for, up in the tall elm-tree,
A purple finch sat high and sang a heavenly song for me.
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PICCOLA.
Poor, sweet Piccola! Did you hear
What happened to Piccola, children dear?
'T is seldom Fortune such favor grants
As fell to this little maid of France.
What happened to Piccola, children dear?
'T is seldom Fortune such favor grants
As fell to this little maid of France.
'T was Christmas-time, and her parents poor
Could hardly drive the wolf from the door,
Striving with poverty's patient pain
Only to live till summer again.
Could hardly drive the wolf from the door,
Striving with poverty's patient pain
Only to live till summer again.
No gifts for Piccola! Sad were they
When dawned the morning of Christmas-day;
Their little darling no joy might stir,
St. Nicholas nothing would bring to her!
When dawned the morning of Christmas-day;
Their little darling no joy might stir,
St. Nicholas nothing would bring to her!
But Piccola never doubted at all
That something beautiful must befall
Every child upon Christmas-day,
And so she slept till the dawn was gray.
That something beautiful must befall
Every child upon Christmas-day,
And so she slept till the dawn was gray.
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And full of faith, when at last she woke,
She stole to her shoe as the morning broke;
Such sounds of gladness filled all the air,
'T was plain St. Nicholas had been there!
She stole to her shoe as the morning broke;
Such sounds of gladness filled all the air,
'T was plain St. Nicholas had been there!
In rushed Piccola sweet, half wild:
Never was seen such a joyful child.
“See what the good saint brought!” she cried,
And mother and father must peep inside.
Never was seen such a joyful child.
“See what the good saint brought!” she cried,
And mother and father must peep inside.
Now such a story who ever heard?
There was a little shivering bird!
A sparrow, that in at the window flew,
Had crept into Piccola's tiny shoe!
There was a little shivering bird!
A sparrow, that in at the window flew,
Had crept into Piccola's tiny shoe!
“How good poor Piccola must have been!”
She cried, as happy as any queen,
While the starving sparrow she fed and warmed,
And danced with rapture, she was so charmed.
She cried, as happy as any queen,
While the starving sparrow she fed and warmed,
And danced with rapture, she was so charmed.
Children, this story I tell to you,
Of Piccola sweet and her bird, is true.
In the far-off land of France, they say,
Still do they live to this very day.
Of Piccola sweet and her bird, is true.
In the far-off land of France, they say,
Still do they live to this very day.
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A TRIUMPH.
Little Roger up the long slope rushing
Through the rustling corn,
Showers of dew-drops from the broad leaves brushing
In the early morn,
Through the rustling corn,
Showers of dew-drops from the broad leaves brushing
In the early morn,
At his sturdy little shoulder bearing,
For a banner gay,
Stem of fir with one long shaving flaring
In the wind away!
For a banner gay,
Stem of fir with one long shaving flaring
In the wind away!
Up he goes, the summer sunrise flushing
O'er him in his race,
Sweeter dawn of rosy childhood blushing
On his radiant face;
O'er him in his race,
Sweeter dawn of rosy childhood blushing
On his radiant face;
If he can but set his standard glorious
On the hill-top low,
Ere the sun climbs the clear sky victorious,
All the world aglow!
On the hill-top low,
Ere the sun climbs the clear sky victorious,
All the world aglow!
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So he presses on with childish ardor,
Almost at the top!
Hasten, Roger! Does the way grow harder?
Wherefore do you stop?
Almost at the top!
Hasten, Roger! Does the way grow harder?
Wherefore do you stop?
From below the corn-stalks tall and slender
Comes a plaintive cry;
Turns he for an instant from the splendor
Of the crimson sky,
Comes a plaintive cry;
Turns he for an instant from the splendor
Of the crimson sky,
Wavers, then goes flying toward the hollow,
Calling loud and clear,
“Coming, Jenny! Oh, why did you follow?
Don't you cry, my dear!”
Calling loud and clear,
“Coming, Jenny! Oh, why did you follow?
Don't you cry, my dear!”
Small Janet sits weeping 'mid the daisies;
“Little sister sweet,
Must you follow Roger?” Then he raises
Baby on her feet.
“Little sister sweet,
Must you follow Roger?” Then he raises
Baby on her feet.
Guides her tiny steps with kindness tender,
Cheerfully and gay,
All his courage and his strength would lend her
Up the uneven way,
Cheerfully and gay,
All his courage and his strength would lend her
Up the uneven way,
Till they front the blazing east together;
But the sun has rolled
Up the sky in the still summer weather,
Flooding them with gold.
But the sun has rolled
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Flooding them with gold.
All forgotten is the boy's ambition,
Low the standard lies,
Still they stand, and gaze—a sweeter vision
Ne'er met mortal eyes.
Low the standard lies,
Still they stand, and gaze—a sweeter vision
Ne'er met mortal eyes.
That was splendid, Roger, that was glorious,
Thus to help the weak;
Better than to plant your flag victorious
On earth's highest peak!
Thus to help the weak;
Better than to plant your flag victorious
On earth's highest peak!
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RESCUED.
“Little lad, slow wandering across the sands so yellow,
Leading safe a lassie small—Oh, tell me, little fellow,
Whither go you, loitering in the summer weather,
Chattering like sweet-voiced birds on a bough together?”
Leading safe a lassie small—Oh, tell me, little fellow,
Whither go you, loitering in the summer weather,
Chattering like sweet-voiced birds on a bough together?”
“I am Robert, if you please, and this is Rose, my sister,
Youngest of us all”—he bent his curly head and kissed her,
“Every day we come and wait here till the sun is setting,
Watching for our father's ship, for mother dear is fretting.
Youngest of us all”—he bent his curly head and kissed her,
“Every day we come and wait here till the sun is setting,
Watching for our father's ship, for mother dear is fretting.
“Long ago he sailed away out of sight and hearing,
Straight across the bay he went, into sunset steering.
Every day we look for him, and hope for his returning,
Every night my mother keeps the candle for him burning.
Straight across the bay he went, into sunset steering.
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Every night my mother keeps the candle for him burning.
“Summer goes, and Winter comes, and Spring returns, but never
Father's step comes to the gate. Oh! is he gone forever?
The great grand ship that bore him off, think you some tempest wrecked her?”
Tears shone in little Rose's eyes, upturned to her protector.
Father's step comes to the gate. Oh! is he gone forever?
The great grand ship that bore him off, think you some tempest wrecked her?”
Tears shone in little Rose's eyes, upturned to her protector.
Eagerly the bonny boy went on: “Oh, sir, look yonder!
In the offing see the sails that east and westward wander;
Every hour they come and go, the misty distance thronging,
While we watch and see them fade, with sorrow and with longing.”
In the offing see the sails that east and westward wander;
Every hour they come and go, the misty distance thronging,
While we watch and see them fade, with sorrow and with longing.”
“Little Robert! little Rose!” The stranger's eyes were glistening,
At his bronzed and bearded face upgazed the children, listening;
He knelt upon the yellow sand, and clasped them to his bosom,
Robert brave, and little Rose, as bright as any blossom.
At his bronzed and bearded face upgazed the children, listening;
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Robert brave, and little Rose, as bright as any blossom.
“Father! Father! Is it you?” The still air rings with rapture;
All the vanished joy of years the waiting ones recapture!
Finds he welcome wild and sweet, the low-thatched cottage reaching,
But the ship that into sunset steered upon the rocks lies bleaching.
All the vanished joy of years the waiting ones recapture!
Finds he welcome wild and sweet, the low-thatched cottage reaching,
But the ship that into sunset steered upon the rocks lies bleaching.
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THE CONSTANT DOVE.
The white dove sat on the sunny eaves,
And “What will you do when the north wind grieves?”
She said to the busy nuthatch small,
Tapping above in the gable tall.
And “What will you do when the north wind grieves?”
She said to the busy nuthatch small,
Tapping above in the gable tall.
He probed each crack with his slender beak,
And much too busy he was to speak.
Spiders, that thought themselves safe and sound,
And moths and flies and cocoons he found.
And much too busy he was to speak.
Spiders, that thought themselves safe and sound,
And moths and flies and cocoons he found.
Oh! but the white dove she was fair,
Bright she shone in the autumn air,
Turning her head from the left to the right;
Only to watch her was such delight!
Bright she shone in the autumn air,
Turning her head from the left to the right;
Only to watch her was such delight!
“Coo!” she murmured, “poor little thing,
What will you do when the frosts shall sting?
Spiders and flies will be hidden or dead,
Snow underneath and snow overhead.”
What will you do when the frosts shall sting?
Spiders and flies will be hidden or dead,
Snow underneath and snow overhead.”
146
Nuthatch paused in his busy care:
“And what will you do, O white dove fair!”
“Oh, kind hands feed me with crumbs and grain,
And I wait with patience for spring again.”
“And what will you do, O white dove fair!”
“Oh, kind hands feed me with crumbs and grain,
And I wait with patience for spring again.”
He laughed so loud that his laugh I heard,
“How can you be such a stupid bird!
What are your wings for, tell me, pray,
But to bear you from tempests and cold away?
“How can you be such a stupid bird!
What are your wings for, tell me, pray,
But to bear you from tempests and cold away?
“Merrily off to the South I fly,
In search of the summer, presently,
And warmth and beauty I'll find anew.
Why don't you follow the summer, too?”
In search of the summer, presently,
And warmth and beauty I'll find anew.
Why don't you follow the summer, too?”
But she cooed content on the sunny eaves,
And looked askance at the reddening leaves;
And grateful I whispered: “O white dove true,
I'll feed you and love you the winter through.”
And looked askance at the reddening leaves;
And grateful I whispered: “O white dove true,
I'll feed you and love you the winter through.”
147
WILD GEESE.
The wind blows, the sun shines, the birds sing loud,
The blue, blue sky is flecked with fleecy dappled cloud,
Over earth's rejoicing fields the children dance and sing,
And the frogs pipe in chorus, “It is spring! It is spring!”
The blue, blue sky is flecked with fleecy dappled cloud,
Over earth's rejoicing fields the children dance and sing,
And the frogs pipe in chorus, “It is spring! It is spring!”
The grass comes, the flower laughs where lately lay the snow,
O'er the breezy hill-top hoarsely calls the crow,
By the flowing river the alder catkins swing,
And the sweet song-sparrow cries, “Spring! It is spring!”
O'er the breezy hill-top hoarsely calls the crow,
By the flowing river the alder catkins swing,
And the sweet song-sparrow cries, “Spring! It is spring!”
Hark, what a clamor goes winging through the sky!
Look, children! Listen to the sound so wild and high!
Like a peal of broken bells,—kling, klang, kling,—
Far and high the wild geese cry, “Spring! It is spring!”
Look, children! Listen to the sound so wild and high!
Like a peal of broken bells,—kling, klang, kling,—
Far and high the wild geese cry, “Spring! It is spring!”
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Bear the winter off with you, O wild geese dear!
Carry all the cold away, far away from here;
Chase the snow into the north, O strong of heart and wing,
While we share the robin's rapture, crying, “Spring! It is spring!”
Carry all the cold away, far away from here;
Chase the snow into the north, O strong of heart and wing,
While we share the robin's rapture, crying, “Spring! It is spring!”
149
THE KITTIWAKES.
Like white feathers blown about the rocks,
Like soft snow-flakes wavering in the air,
Wheel the Kittiwakes in scattered flocks,
Crying, floating, fluttering everywhere.
Like soft snow-flakes wavering in the air,
Wheel the Kittiwakes in scattered flocks,
Crying, floating, fluttering everywhere.
Shapes of snow and cloud, they soar and whirl:
Downy breasts that shine like lilies white;
Delicate vaporous tints of gray and pearl
Laid upon their arching wings so light.
Downy breasts that shine like lilies white;
Delicate vaporous tints of gray and pearl
Laid upon their arching wings so light.
Eyes of jet and beaks and feet of gold,—
Lovelier creatures never sailed in air;
Innocent, inquisitive, and bold,
Knowing not the dangers that they dare.
Lovelier creatures never sailed in air;
Innocent, inquisitive, and bold,
Knowing not the dangers that they dare.
Stooping now above a beckoning hand,
Following gleams of waving kerchiefs white,
What should they of evil understand,
Though the gun awaits them full in sight?
Following gleams of waving kerchiefs white,
What should they of evil understand,
Though the gun awaits them full in sight?
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Though their blood the quiet wave makes red,
Though their broken plumes float far and wide,
Still they linger, hovering overhead,
Still the gun deals death on every side.
Though their broken plumes float far and wide,
Still they linger, hovering overhead,
Still the gun deals death on every side.
Oh, begone, sweet birds, or higher soar!
See you not your comrades low are laid?
But they only flit and call the more,—
Ignorant, unconscious, undismayed.
See you not your comrades low are laid?
But they only flit and call the more,—
Ignorant, unconscious, undismayed.
Nay, then, boatman, spare them! Must they bear
Pangs like these for human vanity?
That their lovely plumage we may wear
Must these fair, pathetic creatures dies?
Pangs like these for human vanity?
That their lovely plumage we may wear
Must these fair, pathetic creatures dies?
Let the tawny squaws themselves admire,
Decked with feathers—we can wiser be.
Ah, beseech you, boatman, do not fire!
Stain no more with blood the tranquil sea.
Decked with feathers—we can wiser be.
Ah, beseech you, boatman, do not fire!
Stain no more with blood the tranquil sea.
151
TRAGEDY.
“You queer little wonderful owlet! you atom so fluffy and small!
Half a handful of feathers and two great eyes—how came you alive at all?
And why do you sit here blinking as blind as a bat in the light,
With your pale eyes bigger than saucers? Now who ever saw such a sight!
Half a handful of feathers and two great eyes—how came you alive at all?
And why do you sit here blinking as blind as a bat in the light,
With your pale eyes bigger than saucers? Now who ever saw such a sight!
“And what ails chickadee, tell me! what makes him flutter and scream
Round and over you where you sit like a tiny ghost in a dream?
I thought him a sensible fellow, quite steady and calm and wise,
But only see how he hops and flits, and hear how wildly he cries!
Round and over you where you sit like a tiny ghost in a dream?
I thought him a sensible fellow, quite steady and calm and wise,
But only see how he hops and flits, and hear how wildly he cries!
“What is the matter, you owlet? You will not be frightened away!—
Do you mean on that twig of a lilac-bush the whole night long to stay?
Are you bewitching my chickadee-dee? I really believe that you are!
I wish you'd go off, you strange brown bird—oh, ever and ever so far!
Do you mean on that twig of a lilac-bush the whole night long to stay?
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I wish you'd go off, you strange brown bird—oh, ever and ever so far!
“I fear you are weaving and winding some kind of a dreadful charm;
If I leave poor chickadee-dee with you, I'm sure he will come to harm.
But what can I do? We can't stay here forever together, we three—
One anxious child, and an owlet weird, and a frightened chickadee-dee!”
If I leave poor chickadee-dee with you, I'm sure he will come to harm.
But what can I do? We can't stay here forever together, we three—
One anxious child, and an owlet weird, and a frightened chickadee-dee!”
I could not frighten the owl away, and chickadee would not come,
So I just ran off with a heavy heart, and told my mother at home;
But when my brothers and sisters went the curious sight to see,
The owl was gone, and there lay on the ground two feathers of chickadee-dee!
So I just ran off with a heavy heart, and told my mother at home;
But when my brothers and sisters went the curious sight to see,
The owl was gone, and there lay on the ground two feathers of chickadee-dee!
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