Various and unharmonious notes they raise,
But all their notes are notes of joy and praise—
And when the Cranes their course unbroken steer,
Beating with clanging wings the echoing air:
These hail—prognostics sure of weather fair.
When the bright gems that night's black vault
adorn
But faintly shine—of half their radiance shorn—
And not by cloud obscur'd, or dimm'd to sight
By the fine silvery veil of Cynthia's light; 310
But of themselves appear to faint away,
They warning give of a tempestuous day.
No weather calm expect, when floating high
Cloud rides o'er Cloud: when clamorous cry
The Geese: when through the night the Raven caws;
And chatter loud at even-tide the Daws.
When Sparrows ceaseless chirp at dawn of day,
And in their holes the Wren and Robin stay.
When charged with stormy matter lower the skies,
The busy Bee at home her labour plies; 320
Nor seeks the distant field and honied flower,
Returning laden'd with her golden store:
Their high aerial flight the Cranes suspend,
And to the earth in broken ranks descend.
When the dull fire emits no cheerful rays—
With lustre dimm'd the languid torches blaze,
