﻿To a Chimney Swift 87 



legs, not strong enough to creep out and hide, he would strike viciously at 

 the hand extended toward him. 



Much to our disappointment, cloudy weather and rainy days prevented 

 further observations, and the exact future of the young bird and the 

 remaining egg was never ascertained. The home-life of these young birds 

 is very short, for, like the Bob-White and the Grouse, they soon leave the 

 open nest for the safer shelter of the dry leaves and grass. Before we again 

 had a chance to return to it, the nest had probably long been empty. 



To a Chimney Swift 



By DORA READ GOODALE 



Uncumbered neighbor of our race ! 



Thou only of thy clan 

 Hast made thy haunt and dwelling-place 



Within the walls of man. 



Thy haughty wing, which rides the storm, 

 Hath stooped to Earth's desires, 



And round thy eery rises warm 

 The smoke of human fires. 



Still didst thou come from lands afar 



In childhood days as now, — 

 Yet alien as the planets are, 



And elfin-strange art thou. 



Thy little realm of quick delights, 



Fierce instincts, untaught powers — 



What unimagined days and nights 

 Cut off that realm from ours ! 



Thy soul is of the dawn of Earth, 



And thine the secrets be 

 Of sentient being's -far-off birth 

 And round-eyed infancy. 



With thee, beneath our sheltering roof, 

 The starry Sphinx doth dwell, 



Untamed, eternally aloof 

 And inaccessible ! 



