THE FLIGHT OF THE BIRDS.
O WISE little birds, how do ye know
The way to go,
Southward and northward, to and fro?
The way to go,
Southward and northward, to and fro?
Far up in the ether pipèd they:
"We but obey
One who calleth us far away.
"We but obey
One who calleth us far away.
"He calleth and calleth year by year,
Now there, now here;
Ever He maketh the way appear."
Now there, now here;
Ever He maketh the way appear."
Dear little birds! He calleth me
Who calleth ye:
Would that I might as trusting be!
Who calleth ye:
Would that I might as trusting be!
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