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AMERICAN ORNITHOLOGY. 



Quick from his perch the Robin flew 

 Right down where all the flowers grew, 

 And to one side he cocked his head, 

 While in a song these words he said: 

 "Thanks to you all, my flowrets sweet, 

 Itfgives me joy your blooms to greet. 

 For well I know you've done your best, 

 Else had you not so quickly dressed. 



"But this one word I'd leave with you, 

 Let us give thanks where thanks are due. 

 To Him who gave me voice to sing 

 And made me herald of the Spring, 

 Who bade the sunbeams melt the snow 

 And warm the air that you might grow. 

 To Him alone give thanks and praise, 

 He made us all and times our days. 



"A sweet good bye I now must sing, 

 'Tis late, I must be on the wing; 

 I promised Mrs. Robin Red 

 That soon as you were out of bed 

 I'd go with her and do my best 

 To find a nook and build our nest. 

 Good bye, good bye, from yonder tree 

 I hear her sweet voice calling me." 



Away to make his promise true. 

 With wide spread wings the Robin flew, 

 And all the flowers faced the light 

 And watched the bird fly out of sight. 

 From bloom to bloom the sunbeams passed 

 And asked what made them grow so fast. 

 For every leaf and bud and flower 

 Grew, both in sunshine and in shower. 



With smile and nod the Jonquil said, 

 "Ere Jack Frost tucks us into bed. 

 We've work to do our growth to reach 

 To fill the place assigned to each, 

 And that is why we grow so fast, 

 So, when we sink to sleep at last, 

 Sweet dreams we'll have of joyous Spring, 

 When Robins come and Blue Bells ring." 



