A MUSICALE. 



(IN CONNECTICUT.) 



The catbird swings on a supple green withe 



Gurgling songs brimful of good cheer; 

 Calling out now and then to some friendly myth, 



"Come here! Oh, Toby! Come here!" 

 The martin and bluebird and little wren bright, 



With selfishness sad to be told, 

 Are waging a war to decide who the right 



To a nest in the bird-house shall hold. 



The flicker is rattling his sharp, rousing call ; 



Song sparrow and phcebe reply; 

 The meadow-lark warbles, and over the wall 



Flits the chippy with faint little cry. 

 The nervous brown chewink repeats his two notes ; 



The wood-thrushes add their sweet trills, 

 While a chorus falls gushing from gay blackbirds' throats 



Like the music of frolicsome rills. 



Swiftly the swallows skim by on soft wings, 



Circling wide in their billowy flight, 

 Low, low o'er the reeds where the bobolink sings, 



Then swift rising, they're lost in the light. 

 On a sudden the west wind springs wanton and wild, 



And drives a bright cloud straight along, 

 Till black anger o'ershadows its loveliness mild 



And a rain of tears falls on the throng. 



Ah, then what a tumult of jubilant sound 



Fills the air from fair earth to the sky ! 

 As if each winged creature a new song had .found, 



And would fain waft it quickly on high. 

 And mingling softly with bird-notes and rain 



Comes an echo from swamplands and bogs ; 

 Fairy sleighbells are tinkling a silvery refrain — 



Sweet and clear chimes the peeping of frogs. 



The tuneful robin, whose lay like a hymn 



Saluted the great rising sun, 

 Will intone a vesper when the light's growing dim, 



Lamenting the day that is done. 

 And just before moon-rise we pause with a thrill, 



And listen intently to hear 

 The sweet plaintive cry of the sad whip-poor-will, 



Calling forth now a smile, now a tear. 



— Maria M. Allyn. 



