NUTTALL SPARROW, or “WESTERN NIGHTINGALE” 
| Miont pnd the flickering a ndowe 
Played like ghosts on crumbled wall; 
With naught to break the stillness 
Save a wierd plaintive call | 
Of a night bird singing biaatd 
On the ramparts by the moat. 
A lonely service woman | 
Caught the clear familiar note 
While memory bore her far away | 
To her own native shore | 
Where the Nuttall Sparrow sings his song’ 
By her loved cottage door. 
2 * * * k 
1 OK toast to him abe: joins the song 
| When clear and bright the day, 
: As myriad throats 
Sing glad happy notes _ 
_ He blends his song in praise. 
But here’s to one when night has come 
And friends have gone to rest. 
| _ Who sings then alone 
In his clearest tone 
The song we love the best. 
_ ’Tis easy enough to join the song 
_ When the days are clear and bright 
 -_ But a brave true heart 
- Will carry his part > 
Though he sings alone in the night. 
