File:A year with the birds (1917) (14749986315).jpg

Identifier: cu31924022541563 (find matches)
Title: A year with the birds
Year: 1917 (1910s)
Authors: Ball, Alice Eliza, 1867- Horsfall, R. Bruce (Robert Bruce), 1869-1948
Subjects: Birds Birds
Publisher: New York : Gibbs & Van Vleck
Contributing Library: Cornell University Library
Digitizing Sponsor: MSN

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Text Appearing Before Image:
YELLOW WARBLER 0 joy of life, 0 joy of love! When cloudless skies are blue above, In starry spring! When happy warblers on the v^ing Do mating build their nests and sing. 0 joy of life! Stuart Sterne 151 The Maryland Yellow-Throat A host of warblers northward come in May,And linger with us only one brief day;You, Yellow-throated Warbler, love to stay. We glimpse your dainty coat of olive green.Your breast and throat of shimmering yellow sheenAnd mask of black, where ferns and bushes lean Oer sparkling streamlets, rimmed with many a reed.And hung with brilliant golden jewel-weed.Midst feathery spikes of meadow-sweet you speed. Your brooding mate rocks gently to and fro.And listens, while the summer breezes blow.To your glad Witch-i-tee-o! Witch-i-tee-o! A. E. B. 152
Text Appearing After Image:
*The Maryland Yellow-Throat While May bedecks the naked treesWith tassels and embroideries,And many blue-eyed violets beamAlong the edges of the stream,I hear a voice that seems to say,Now near at hand, now far away, Witchery—witchery—witchery. An incantation so serene,So innocent, befits the scene:Theres magic in that small birds note—See, there he flits—the Yellow-throat;A living sunbeam, tipped with wings,A spark of light that shines and singsWitchery—witchery—witchery. Henry van Dyhe *NOTE.—Reprinted by permission of Charles Scribners Sons. 153 *The Red-Eyed Vireo Do you hear me? Dont you knowIm the Red-eyed Vireo ?After lovely blossoming MayEntices me, the livelong day—Even when the August noonSilences the bards of June—My incessant voice is heard,Till Im called The Preacher-bird. Ive a gray head, eyebrows light,A green robe over vestments white.From roadside pulpits, forest aisles,I preach against all worldly wiles.Do you hear me? Dont you knowTo forest-temples

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