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BLUE-BIRD 



The ploughman is pleas'd when he gleans in his train. 

 Now searching the furrows — now mounting to cheer him ; 



The gard'ner delights in his sweet simple strain. 

 And leans on his spade to survey and to hear him ; 



The slow lingering schoolboys forget they^ll be chid. 

 While gazing intent as he warbles before 'em 



In mantle of sky-blue, and bosom so red. 

 That each little loiterer seems to adore him. 



When all the gay scenes of the summer are o'er. 

 And autumn slow enters so silent and sallow. 



And millions of warblers, that charmed us before. 

 Have fled in the train of the sun-seeking swallow ; 



The Blue-bird, forsaken, yet true to his home. 

 Still lingers, and looks for a milder to-morrow. 



Till forc'd by the horrors of winter to roam. 

 He sings his adieu in a lone note of sorrow. 



While spring's lovely season, serene, dewy, warm. 

 The green face of earth, and the pure blue of heav'n. 



Or love's native music have influence to charm. 

 Or sympathy's glow to our feelings are giv'n. 



Still dear to each bosom the Blue-bird shall be ; 

 His voice, like the thrillings of hope, is a treasure ; 



For, thro bleakest storms if a calm he but see. 

 He comes to remind us of sunshine and pleasure ! 



The Blue-bird, in summer and Fall, is fond of frequenting 

 open pasture fields ; and there perching on the stalks of the great 

 mullein, to look out for passing insects. A whole family of them 

 are often seen, thus situated, as if receiving lessons of dexterity 

 from their more expert parents, who can espy a beetle crawling 



