THE LANGUAGE OF BIRDS. 
16 
Away — away !— why dost thou linger here^ 
When all thy fellows o'er the sea have pass'd ? 
Wert thou the earliest comer of the year, 
Loving our land, and so dost stay the last ? 
Hears't thou no warning in the autumnal blast ? 
And is the sound of groaning streams unheard ? 
Dost thou not see the woods are fading fast, 
Whilst the dull leaves with wailful winds are stirr'd 
Haste, — haste to other climes, thou solitary bird ! 
Thy coming was in lovelier skies—thy wing. 
Long wearied, rested in delightful bowers ; 
Thou earnest when the living breath of spring, 
Had filled the world with gladness and with flowers 
Sky-ward the carolling lark no longer towers — ■ 
Alone we hear the robin^s pensive lay ; 
And from the sky of beauty darkness lowers : 
Thy coming was with hope, but thou dost stay 
'Midst melancholy thoughts that dwell upon decay. 
Blessed are they who have before thee fled ! 
Theirs have been all the pleasures of the prime ; 
Like those who die before their joys are dead^ 
Leaving a lovely for a lovelier clime, 
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