To a Chimney Swift 87 legs, not strong enough to creep out and hide, he would strike viciously at the hand extended toward him. Much to our disappointment, cloudy weather and rainy days prevented further observations, and the exact future of the young bird and the remaining egg was never ascertained. The home-life of these young birds is very short, for, like the Bob-White and the Grouse, they soon leave the open nest for the safer shelter of the dry leaves and grass. Before we again had a chance to return to it, the nest had probably long been empty. To a Chimney Swift By DORA READ GOODALE Uncumbered neighbor of our race ! Thou only of thy clan Hast made thy haunt and dwelling-place Within the walls of man. Thy haughty wing, which rides the storm, Hath stooped to Earth's desires, And round thy eery rises warm The smoke of human fires. Still didst thou come from lands afar In childhood days as now, — Yet alien as the planets are, And elfin-strange art thou. Thy little realm of quick delights, Fierce instincts, untaught powers — What unimagined days and nights Cut off that realm from ours ! Thy soul is of the dawn of Earth, And thine the secrets be Of sentient being's -far-off birth And round-eyed infancy. With thee, beneath our sheltering roof, The starry Sphinx doth dwell, Untamed, eternally aloof And inaccessible !
