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At dawn of the day, they are warbling away,
But they never have done the least harm;
The summer's most gone, they've a short time to stay—
They will soon fly away from our farm.
To the bright sunny South, they then will repair,
In autumn they flock off together;
Our Father in Heaven with kind, watchful care,
Then guides them in search of warm weather.
I'm sure 'twill displease Him, if merely for sport
You shoot these sweet songsters to-day;
Remember, kind sportsmen, their life is but short;
Oh, spare them, in pity, I pray!
CROSS GIRL.
Jane, my dear,
How can you be
Cross to little
Emily!
When she's such
A darling child;
Always gentle,
Meek and mild.
