Stories and ballads for young folks

by Ellen Tracy Alden

And the blossoms gladden hill and glen.

Good-by, good-by, little bird, till then;

Good-by, good-by, little bird.

HE WILL COME BACK.

Slow the sunset’s glory fades

In a thousand shifting shades,

Crimson passing into gray,

Where the waters of the bay,

Mirror, serve the sky alway.