MIGRATION OF BIRDS.
��NOVEMBER came on, with an eye severe,
And his stormy language was hoarse to hear,
And the glittering garland of brown and red,
Which he wreath 'd for a while round the forest's head,
With a sudden' anger he rent away,
And all was cheerless, and bare, and grey.
Then the houseless grasshopper told his woes,
And the humming-bird sent forth a wail for the rose,
And the spider, that weaver, of cunning so deep,
Roll'd himself up in a ball to sleep ;
And the cricket his merry horn laid by
On the shelf, with the pipe of the dragon-fly.
Soon the birds were heard, at the morning-prime, Consulting of flight to a warmer clime. " Let us go ! let us go ! " said the bright-wing'd jay ; And his gay spouse sang from a rocking spray, " I am tir'd to death of this hum-drum tree, I'll go, if 'tis only the world to see."