2i6 BIRDS OF THE WAVE AND WOODLAND 



their voices, the robin chants his cheery song, so full of bright 

 faith and gladsome hope that the hearer cannot but take 

 fresh heart on hearing him sing of better times. In summer, 

 when " varied music burthens every bough," the voice of the 

 little preacher of the wood is lost for a while, but by-and- 

 by, when the songsters all have gone southward with the 

 sunshine, and the chill rain drips from empty boughs upon 

 the russet drifts of autumn leaves, the robin mounts the 

 vacant choir, and out of the fulness of his own brave little 

 heart utters his sweet brief canticle, "thanking God" so it 

 seems " for a life so fair," and bidding all the sad who listen 

 to him to renew their hopes and be light-hearted, to continue 

 in their joy. And so to December and the end of the year, 

 which the robin-redbreast always sings out with a happy 

 Christmas carol. 



