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THE OOLOGIST 



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THE HUMMING BIRD 



A morsel of rainbow forgot by a shower 

 Is dashing the dew from the cardinal-flower. 

 Two delicate pinions delightedly drumming 

 Are witching the dawn with Aeolian humming. 

 A dainty black needle is probing the roses 

 And proving that nectar the lily encloses. 

 But under the honey-vine's odorous cover 

 A true little bride waits her recreant lover. 

 Then, fie! feathered truant, 'tis time you were 



winging; 

 Enough of your feasting and music and singing, 

 And arrow your flight to that bower of rest — 

 Your spider-web, thistle-down, maidenhair nest! 



Arthur Guiturman in Youth's Companion 



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