52 Bird Day Book 



3B 



IN THE SUMMER WOODS. 



1LEAN to every breeze that plays, 

 Tossing the leaves along the ways. 

 And every pine branch breathes to me 

 And every floweret wreathes for me 

 Dear memories of other days. 



I hear the rush of mountain streams 

 And deep in tousled green it seems, 



White blossoming bells ring to me, 



Golden chalices fling to me 

 "Now is the time for dreams." 



I see the sweep of summer rain 

 And dazzling sun breaks forth again 

 And every bird throat sings to me, 

 And every Pan note brings to me 

 A surcease from all pain 



I'm tender grown beneath such spell ; 



I hear life's undersong and swell, 

 And all that's good appeals to me. 

 And all God's peace reveals to me 



Secrets the woodlands tell. 



— Mittie Owen McDavid. 



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