258 Autumn Hunting [FIRST WEEK 



the crows begin to flock back and forth to and from their 

 winter roosts. On some years it is the twelfth, or again 

 the seventeenth, but the constancy of the mean date is 

 remarkable. Many of our winter visitants have already 

 slipped into our fields and woods and taken the places of 

 some of the earlier southern migrants ; but the daily passing 

 of the birds which delay their journey until fairly pinched 

 by the lack of food at the first frosts extends well into 

 November. It is not until the foliage on the trees and 

 bushes becomes threadbare and the last migrants have 

 flown, that our northern visitors begin to take a prominent 

 place in our avifauna. 



Season of mists and mellow fruit fulness! 

 Close bosom friend of the maturing sun; 

 ********* 

 Where are the songs of spring? Ay, where are they? 



Think not of them, thou hast thy music too, 

 While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day, 

 And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue; 

 Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn 

 Among the river-sallows, borne aloft 



Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies; 

 And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn; 

 Hedge-crickets sing, and now with treble soft 

 The red-breast whistles from a garden-croft, 

 And gathering swallows twitter in the skies. 



JOHN KEATS. 



