File:Through the year with birds and poets (poems); (1900) (14564786817).jpg

Identifier: throughyearwithb00will (find matches)
Title: Through the year with birds and poets (poems);
Year: 1900 (1900s)
Authors: Williams, Sarah, comp
Subjects: American poetry Birds
Publisher: Boston, Lee and Shepard
Contributing Library: The Library of Congress
Digitizing Sponsor: The Library of Congress

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doneAnd unstained as the sun. Nature. — Ralph Waldo Emerson. SPRING A few lonely birds,Of those that in this northern clime remainThroughout the year; and in the dawn of spring,At pleasant noon, from their unknown retreatCome suddenly to view with lively notes ;Or those that soonest to this clime returnFrom warmer regions, in thick groves were seen,But with their feathers ruffled, and despoiledOf all their glossy lustre, sitting mute,Or only skipping, with a single chirp,In quest of food. The Age of Benevolence. — CARLOS WILCOX. I heard the woodpecker pecking,The bluebird tenderly sing; I turned and looked out of the window,And lo, it was spring ! I forget my old age and grow youthful,Bathing in wind-tides of spring, When I hear the woodpecker pecking,The first bluebird sing. At the Window. — Maurice Thompson. From spot to spotThe merry carol of the bluebird sounds,The gay-wingd messenger, the spring sends outTo tell us of her coming. The First Violet.—Alfred Billings Street.
Text Appearing After Image:
MARCH Hark ! Tis the bluebirds venturous strainHigh on the old fringed elm at the gate ; Sweet-voiced, valiant on the swaying bough, Alert, elate,Dodging the fitful spits of snow,New Englands poet-laureateTelling us that Spring has come again ! Spring in New England. —Thomas Bailey Aldrich. March ! ??iarch ! march ! They are coming In troops to the tune of the wind:Red-headed woodpeckers drumming, Gold-crested thrushes behind,Sparrows in brown jackets hopping Past every gateway and door ;Finches with crimson caps stopping Just where they stopped years before. March. — Lucy Larcom. Hark ! that sweet carol! with delight We leave the stifling room !The little bluebird greets our sight, Spring, glorious Spring has co?ne !The south winds kiss is on the air,The melting snow-wreaths everywhere Are leaping off in showers ;And Nature, in her brightening looks,Tells that her flowers, and leaves, and brooks, And birds will soon be ours. An American Spring. — Alfred Billings Street. THROUGHthroughyearwithb00will

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