Or:
TO THE STORK
The winter time is over and the fields are growing green,
And thou once more art here, bird so good,
To build thy nest again where it before hath been,
To hatch therein again thy feathery fledgling brood.
Away! Away! Be cheated not
By the sunbeam’s glittering quiver,
By the babbling of the river;
Away! Spring comes not to the spot,