Alabama Bird Day Book

Predný obal
Department of Game and Fish, 1915
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Strana 40 - There is a Power whose care teaches thy way along that pathless coast, the desert and illimitable air — lone wandering, but not lost. All day thy wings have fanned, at that far height, the cold thin atmosphere, yet stoop not, weary, to the welcome land, though the dark night is near.
Strana 40 - midst falling dew, While glow the heavens with the last steps of day, Far, through their rosy depths, dost thou pursue Thy solitary way...
Strana 65 - Hours, Fair Venus' train, appear, Disclose the long-expecting flowers And wake the purple year ! The Attic warbler pours her throat Responsive to the cuckoo's note, The untaught harmony of Spring : While, whispering pleasure as they fly, Cool Zephyrs thro" the clear blue sky Their gather'd fragrance fling.
Strana 65 - Where'er the oak's thick branches stretch A broader, browner shade, Where'er the rude and moss-grown beech O'er-canopies the glade, Beside some water's rushy brink With, me the Muse shall sit, and think (At ease...
Strana 10 - Summer is coming, summer is coming. I know it, I know it, I know it. Light again, leaf again, life again, love again,
Strana 27 - I chatter over stony ways, In little sharps and trebles, I bubble into eddying bays, I babble on the pebbles. With many a curve my banks I fret By many a field and fallow, And many a fairy foreland set With willow-weed and mallow.
Strana 27 - I murmur under moon and stars In brambly wildernesses ; I linger by my shingly bars ; I loiter round my cresses ; And out again I curve and flow To join the brimming river, For men may come, and men may go, But I go on forever.
Strana 9 - THERE is not in the wide world a valley so sweet, As that vale in whose bosom the bright waters meet; Oh ! the last rays of feeling and life must depart, Ere the bloom of that valley shall fade from my heart.
Strana 27 - I steal by lawns and grassy plots, I slide by hazel covers; I move the sweet forget-me-nots That grow for happy lovers.
Strana 27 - I move the sweet forget-me-nots That grow for happy lovers. I slip, I slide, I gloom, I glance, Among my skimming swallows: I make the netted sunbeam dance Against my sandy shallows. I murmur under moon and stars In brambly wildernesses: I linger by my shingly bars: I loiter round my cresses: And out again I curve and flow To join the brimming river. For men may come and men may go, But I go on for ever.

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