Sing on, what though thou beat Somewhere the blue skies show; ; Bird, though they come, we know, Sing on, sing on, O Thrush! LADY-BIRD, LADY-BIRD. CAROLINE B. SOUTHEY. LADY-BIRD, lady-bird! fly away home! Lady-bird, lady-bird! fly away home! The dew's falling fast, and your fine speckled wings Lady-bird, lady-bird! fly away home! The owl's come abroad, and the bat's on the roam, Lady-bird, lady-bird! fly away home! Make haste, or they'll catch you, and harness you fast With a cobweb to Oberon's car. Lady-bird, lady-bird! fly away home! Lady-bird, lady-bird! fly away home! AN EPITAPH ON A ROBIN REDBREAST. SAMUEL ROGERS. TREAD lightly here; for here, 'tis said, No more in lone or leafless groves, Where never cat glides o'er the green, THE CUCKOO. OLD ENGLISH. "IN April He sings all day, He changes his tune, In bright July He's ready to fly, In August Go he must." THE LITTLE BIRD. MARTIN LUther. ONE evening when Luther saw a little bird perched on a tree to roost there for the night, he said: "This little bird has had its supper and now it is getting ready to go to sleep here, quite secure and content, never troubling itself what its food will be, or where its Like David it abides under lodging on the morrow. 6 the shadow of the Almighty.' It sits on its little twig content, and lets God take care!" THE EAGLE. ALFRED TENNYSON. HE clasps the crag with hookèd hands; The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls; THE DOVE. JOHN KEATS. I HAD a dove, and the sweet dove died; Why, pretty thing! would you not live with me? THE SANDPIPER. CELIA THAXTER. ACROSS the lonely beach we flit, The scattered drift-wood, bleached and dry. Above our heads the sullen clouds Scud, black and swift, across the sky; I see the close-reefed vessels fly, I watch him as he skims along, Nor flash of fluttering drapery. |