TO A WILD DUCK. 



JAMES R. WATSON. 



Thou green crested patriarch of travel, whence comest thou? 



Pause a while in thy weary flight and tell me now, 



Hast lately flown o'er Northland, where thy piercing eye saw naught but wide 



expanse of glistening snow ? 

 Or hast last looked upon the Southland, with tropic sunshine fraught, where 



roses and magnolias grow? 

 Has thy long flight passed o'er the city's crowded ways. 

 Through lurid nights and smoking, hazy days ? 

 Or was it far from these, o'er quiet hill and dale? 

 Or hast been worn and buffeted by rude and blustering gale ? 

 Art thou not tired with long journey, and wilt not rest, 

 And bathe, and plume thy wings, and gain new zest ? 

 Thy very frame must be aweary worn, 

 And need, maybe, new strength ere coming morn. 



Nay ? An' must thou rise e'en higher in thy flight ? Well get thee gone, 

 And wing thy way unharmed, untrammeled and alone. 

 Bon voyage ! Godspeed thee where'er thou may'st be bound, 

 Thou can'st not know the good friend thou hast found. - 



LENGTH OF HORNS l7 l / 2 INCHES. PRONGS tf/2 INCHES WIDE. 



A GOOD PAIR. 

 223 



