The swallows gather on the fence and wire,
Chatter a loud farewell to barn and nest,
And then on wings which never seem to tire
They fly away in southern bowers to rest.
The thrush no longer sings its tender song
In osage thicket, or in locust hedge,
But pipes its notes the negro boys among,
On cotton plant, or Alabama sedge.
The blackbird lingers by the flowing brook,
Or perches proudly on the shock of corn;