The Phoebe : 4I 



through life. Out of that warm friendship has grown the 

 wish that in that country which is to come the better land 

 we may have the birds with us. And why not? 



''Not every bird can warble sweet 



Or wear a plumage gay. 

 The modest wren is trim and neat, 



The phoebe's breast is gray, 

 Yet he who notes the sparrow's fall 



Holds every birdling dear: 

 His earth is nesting place for all, 



His azure skies are clear 

 For wings that flit from tree to tree 



Or sail the clouds above." 



