The Bluebird

When ice is thawed and snow ia gone, And racy sweetness flooda the trees. When snowbirds from the hedge have flown And on the hive-porch swarm the bees, Dnfting down the firat wann wind Tliat thrills the earliest days of spring, The bluebird seeks our maple groves And charms them into tasseling. He sit3 among the delicate sprays, With mista of splendor round him drawn, And through the sprints prophetic Teil Sees summer's rioh f ultillment dawn : He singa, and his is Nature's voice,- A gush of melody sincere From that great fount of harmony That thaws and runs when spring is here. Short ia hia song, but strangely sweet To ears aweary of the low, Dull tramp of winter' sullen feet, ■ Sandaled in ice and muffed in snow : Short is his song, but through ït runs A hint of dithyrambs yet to be,- A sweet suggestiveness that has The influencie of prophesy. From childhood I have nursed a faith In bluebird's songs and winds of spring : They teil me after frost and death There comes a time of blossoming ; And after snow and cutting sleet The cold, stern mood of Nature yields To tender warmth, when bare pink feet Of clnldreu press her greening fields. Sing strong and clear, O bluebird dear ! While all the land with splendor filis, While maples gladden in the vales. And plum-treea hlossom on the hill : Float down the wind on shining wings, And do thy will by grove and stream, While through my life spring's freshuess runa, Like music through a poet's dream. -Lippincotfs Magazine for May.