128 
BIRD LIFE IN WASHINGTON 
A WOODLAND MEDLEY 
There’s a church by the Peaceful Ocean: 
It was built by the Great Divine: 
For ’tis Peace and ’tis Love’s devotion 
That its evergreen walls enshrine. 
There the birds lend their matchless voices 
Thrush and Grosbeak are the choir— 
While the sylvan chancel rejoices. 
That the Robin’s aflame with its fire. 
From his pulpit the Yireo’s calling—, 
Hear him calling, “Spirit, come here!” 
There’s a prayer sweet cadenced falling 
From the throat of the Hermit Thrush 
near. 
By his rush-rimmed font in the Plover, 
Where the shadows of hemlocks creep; 
Where the dainty winged Gold Throats 
t/ o 
hover 
And the blushing Horned Grebes 
plunge deep. 
O, we’ll come when these forests are glow- 
in O' • 
When the Orchards their censers swing; 
O 7 
When the silver-rayed dogwoods are blow¬ 
ing 
O’er the many lined carpet of spring. 
