Part 4 (1/2)

This is the carol the Robin throws Over the edge of the valley; Listen how boldly it flows, Sally on sally: _Tirra-lirra, Early morn, New born!

Day is near, Clear, clear.

Down the river All a-quiver, Fish are breaking; Time for waking, Tup, tup, tup!

Do you hear?

All clear-- Wake up!_

The phantom flood of dreams has ebbed and vanished with the dark, And like a dove the heart forsakes the prison of the ark; Now forth she fares thro' friendly woods and diamond-fields of dew, While every voice cries out ”Rejoice!” as if the world were new.

This is the ballad the Bluebird sings, Unto his mate replying, Shaking the tune from his wings While he is flying: _Surely, surely, surely, Life is dear Even here.

Blue above, You to love, Purely, purely, purely._

There's wild azalea on the hill, and iris down the dell, And just one spray of lilac still abloom beside the well; The columbine adorns the rocks, the laurel buds grow pink, Along the stream white arums gleam, and violets bend to drink.

This is the song of the Yellow-throat, Fluttering gaily beside you; Hear how each voluble note Offers to guide you: _Which way, sir?

I say, sir, Let me teach you, I beseech you!

Are you wis.h.i.+ng Jolly fis.h.i.+ng?

This way, sir!

I'll teach you._

Then come, my friend, forget your foes and leave your fears behind, And wander forth to try your luck, with cheerful, quiet mind; For be your fortune great or small, you take what G.o.d will give, And all the day your heart will say, ”'Tis luck enough to live.”

This is the song the Brown Thrush flings Out of his thicket of roses; Hark how it bubbles and rings, Mark how it closes: _Luck, luck, What luck?

Good enough for me, I'm alive, you see!

Sun s.h.i.+ning, No repining; Never borrow Idle sorrow; Drop it!

Cover it up!

Hold your cup!

Joy will fill it, Don't spill it, Steady, be ready, Good luck!_

1899.

THE RUBY-CROWNED KINGLET

I

Where's your kingdom, little king?

Where the land you call your own, Where your palace and your throne?

Fluttering lightly on the wing Through the blossom-world of May, Whither lies your royal way, Little king?

_Far to northward lies a land Where the trees together stand Closely as the blades of wheat When the summer is complete.

Rolling like an ocean wide Over vale and mountainside, Balsam, hemlock, spruce and pine,-- All those mighty trees are mine.

There's a river flowing free,-- All its waves belong to me.

There's a lake so clear and bright Stars s.h.i.+ne out of it all night; Rowan-berries round it spread Like a belt of coral red.