Ho JtnowSr the roprue on the tree, That over mountain r.iid la The spring U coming, coming, Faster th:in oye can see. Last work he was stark with cold, Went heavy, songlosa and old. Why, hark to the tune hè is liumniingl 'Tis a song for the duys of gold. And her voi - tlint callcth the swallowi Home, and 1 Ik gold wren follow, Nearor is coming and no?.ror, Thrilling tlio hills and hollows. And he knows, the rogue on tlio tree, , 'Ti.s the qneen from over the sca. Her voice i.s swecter and dearer Thun anv falackbird's can be.