Crossbill, Red 



their crossed beaks in getting at the seeds in the pine 

 cones — a superficial criticism when the thoroughness and 

 admirable dexterity of their work are better understood. 

 .... They are said to be inordinately fond of salt. 



Neltje Blanchan. Bird Neighbors.^^ 

 The Legend of the Crossbill 



FROM THE GERMAN OF JULIUS MOSEN, BY LONGFELLOW. 



On the cross the dying Saviour 

 Heavenward lifts His eyelids calm, 



Feels, but scarcely feels, a trembling 

 In His pierced and bleeding palm. 



And by all the world forsaken, 



Sees He how with zealous care 

 At the ruthless nail of iron 



A little bird is striving there. 



Stained with blood and never tiring. 



With its beak it doth not cease. 

 From the cross t 'would free the Saviour, 



Its Creator's Son release. 



And the Saviour speaks in mildness : 



'' Blest be thou of all the good! 

 Bear, as token of this moment, 



Marks of blood and holy rood ! '* 



And that bird is called the crossbill. 



Covered all with blood so clear, 

 In the groves of pine it singeth 



Songs, like legends, strange to hear. 



57 



