BIRDS OF PASSAGE. 



Black shadows fall 



From the lindens tall, 



That lift aloft their massive wall 



Against the southern sky ; 



And from the realms 

 Of the shadowy elms, 

 A tide-like darkness overwhelms 



The fields that round us lie. 





 But the night is fair 



And everywhere 



A warm, soft vapor fills the air 



And distant sounds seem near ; 



And above, in the light 

 Of the star-lit night, 

 Swift birds of passage wing their flight 

 Through the dewy atmosphere. 



I hear the beat 

 Of their pinions fleet, 

 As from the land of snow and sleet 

 They seek a southern lea. 



I hear the cry 



Of their voices high * 



Falling dreamily through the sky, 



But their forms I cannot see. 



LONGFELLOW. 



173 



