BIRDS AND NftTURE. 



ILLUSTRATED BY COLOR PHOTOGRAPHY. 



Vol. X. NOVEMBER, 1901. No. 4 



AN AUTUMN EVENING. 



In scattered plumes the floating clouds 



Went drifting down the west, 

 Like barks that in their haven soon 



Would moor and be at rest. 

 The Day sank down, a monarch tired, 



Upon Night's sable breast. 



The wind was all but hushed to sleep. 



Yet now and then it stirred 

 A great tree's top, and whispering. 



Awoke a slumbering bird, 

 Who half aroused, but only chirped 



A song of just a word. 



And in the west the rosy light 



Spread out a thousand arms, 

 Each with a torch, whose crimson flame 



Stretched o'er the peaceful farms. 

 And o'er the yellow corn, that lay 



Unconscious of all harms. 



Then changed into a waste of blue 



A desert tract of air. 

 Where no rich clouds, like Indian flowers 



Bore blossoms bright and fair; 



And over all, a sense of want 



And something lost was there. 



— Walter Thornbury 



