AMERICAN ORNITHOLOGY. 



89 



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THE MESSENGER. 

 By Isaac E. Hess. 



When the wintry wood folds up her shroud 



Revealing spots so dear, 

 And the snows upon the north-tipped slopes 



Begin to disappear — 

 When the green springs upward to replace 



Earth's carpet brown and sear — 

 They're bulletins : translated read, 

 "Spring-time is almost here." 



When the Red-bird plies his questionings 



"What cheer" to me "What cheer", 

 When from the azure skies above 



Sweet bluebird notes I hear. 

 And "honks" of wild geese speeding north 



Fall softly on my ear — 

 They're peremptory messages; 



They tell me spring is near. 



When from the distant south there rings 



The clarion notes and clear, 

 And comes the wild voice, hastening 

 On wings "Killdeer," "Killdeer" — 

 I bid farewell to winter 



And we part without a tear; 

 For spring's authentic messenger 



Is come and spring is here. 



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