TO THE CUCKOO. Hail, beauteous stranger of the grove! What time the pea puts on the bloom, Delightful visitant! with thee And hear the sound of music sweet Sweet bird thy bower is ever green, Oh, could I fly, I'd fly with thee! JOHN LOGAN. BIRDS AT DAWN. The beautiful day is breaking, A rosy flush creeps up the sky, While from Sparrow, and Thrush, and Wood Pewee, The Linnet sings like a magic flute, Is the trumpeter gay, The Kingfisher, sounding his rattle, he The Cock, saluting the sun's first ray, Is the bugler sounding a reveille. "Caw! Caw!" cries the crow, and his grating tone Completes the chord like a deep trombone. But, above them all, the Robin sings; Day is near! My dear!" MISS HARRIET E. PAINE. EVENING SONGS. Gliding at sunset in my boat, I hear the Veery's bubbling note; Sounds the home-call to his mate. Then the sun sinks low In the western glow, And the birds go to rest. But hush! Far off sings the sweet Wood-Thrush. He sings and waits - and sings again, He ceases, and all the world is still : Tranquil, I lay me down to sleep, And I hear from the Sparrow a gentle trill, Which means, "Good Night; Peace and Good Will." MISS HARRIET E. PAINE. LITTTE BROWN BIRD. A little brown bird sat on a stone; Of this gay summer so long and dreary?” The little bird opened his black bright eyes, 66 LIFE'S SIGN. Posies for Children. Wouldst thou the life of souls discern, KEBLE. A BIRD'S MINISTRY. From his home in an Eastern bungalow, Of the grand Himalayas, row on row, "I had travelled far From the Afghan towers of Candahar, Through the sand-white plains of Sinde-Sagar; "And once, when the daily march was o'er, As tired I sat in my tented door, Hope failed me, as never it failed before. "In swarming city, at wayside fane, By the Indus' bank, on the scorching plain, I had taught, and my teaching all seemed vain. "No glimmer of light (I sighed) appears; The Moslem's Fate and the Buddhist's fears Have gloomed their worship this thousand years. "For Christ and his truth I stand alone In the midst of millions: a sand-grain blown "As soon may level it!' Faith forsook My soul, as I turned on the pile to look ; Then, rising, my saddened way I took To its lofty roof, for the cooler air: I gazed, and marvelled ; — how crumbled were The walls I had deemed so firm and fair! For, wedged in a rift of the massive stone, Whose gradual stress would still expand Then I knelt by the riven granite there, "The living seeds I have dropped remain |