Over THE TRAPPING LINE. 
to 
as 
~I 


Lakeside songster, singing sparrow, 
Oft repeats his whistling ‘I see ;” 
His call today and call tomorrow 
Will always please the listening cronie. 
Nature now seems dreamily resting, 
The chatting thrushes quiet keep ; 
The moose bird’s head beneath his wing, 
The little frog has winked to sleep. 
A cronie’s low tones, soothing proving, 
The listening cronie now reposing ; 
The watching cronie, nothing moving 
Against the hemlock soon is dozing. 
Beside the birch bark lightly lapping, 
Little wavelets come and go; 
Lulling cronies, keeps them napping, 
While ceaseless is the brooklet’s flow. 
By the north bank while they rest, 
Up the shore a buck is stalking ; 
Wave and zephyr from the west 
Both are with him in his walking. 
Nearer, slowly nearer wading, 
Nipping grasses tender growing, 
Just above the waters flowing, 
While the cronies both are snoring. 
Soon he espies the birch canoe 
Lying quite still on the shore ; 
At first, surprised at something new, 
Then thinks he’s seen the log before. 
