Oh, happy life, to soar and sway- 

 Above the life by mortals led, 



Singing- the merry months away, 

 Master, not slave, of daily bread. 



And when the autumn comes, to flee 



Wherever sunshine beckons thee. 



James Russell Lowell. 



You must have the bird in your heart before you can 

 find it in the bush ; and when once you have it in your 

 heart, the finding of it in the bush is a secondary matter. 



John Burroughs. 

 xxii 



