BIRDS OF THE SNOW 



On twinkling wings they eddy past, 



At home amid the drifting-. 

 Or seek the hills and weedy fields 



Where fast the snow is sifting. 



Their coats are dappled white and brown 



Like fields in winter weather, 

 But on the azure sky they float 



Like snowflakes knit together. 



I've heard them on the spotless hills 

 Where fox and hound were playing. 



The while I stood with eager ear 

 Bent on the distant baying. 



The unmown fields are their preserves, 

 Where weeds and grass are seeding; 



They know the lure of distant stacks 

 Where houseless herds are feeding. 



John Burroughs. 



