AMERICAN ORNITHOLOGY. 



It hangs in the branch of a pear tree, 



Lonely and tenantless now, 

 'Mid Winter winds whistling and wailing 



It clings to the leafless bough. 



It hangs with its hay scented grasses 

 Tattered and torn by the rain, 



A bit of sweet Nature's old story 

 Left now at the Summer's wane. 



The Chickadees hop in the branches. 

 Nuthatches pound on the tree. 



Where once in the sunshine of Summer 

 The Vireo sang to me. 



He preaches a sermon of friendship, 



Over and over again, 

 And tells in his own winning language, 



Of love and goodwill to all men. 



I wait till the Summer returning 

 Laden with sunshine and rest. 



Shall bring back my Vireo preacher 

 To build near the empty nest. 



