248 With the Birds and Poets 



Alice Brown breathes the very soul of the bird 

 lover at this season in these lines: 



"My birds, come back! the hollow sky 

 Is weary for your note. 

 (Sweetthroat, come back! O liquid, mellow throat!) 

 Ere May's soft minions hereward fly, 

 Shame on ye, laggards, to deny 

 The brooding breast, the sun-bright eye, 

 The tawny, shining coat." 



