The Red-Poll Linnet 49 
See — what falls from cloudland's spaces 
Light of wing and warm of tinting ? 
See, a host with song descending, 
See, the snow with warm life dappled. 
In the birches, on the grasses ? 
Stiffly rising through the snow crust, 
On the slope of yonder sand-bank 
Where the snow has slipped and wasted, 
Rest a flock of trustful strangers, 
Lisping words of gentle greeting, 
Rest and find the sun's rays warming, 
Rest and find their food abundant, 
Resting, sing of weary journeys 
From a Northland cold and distant. 
They can tell of Athabasca, 
Of the land of Manitoba, 
Of Mistassinnie, the wood lake, 
Of the Saguenay's swift water ; 
They can tell of boundless forests, 
Rivers where the salmon plunges, 
Lakes where wild geese dwell untroubled, 
