The graceful Wood-Duck claims fair beauty's prize;
No gorgeous plumes like his adorn the crest;
No lovelier shades could feathers yield or sparkling eyes.
The shady copse the wary Woodcock haunts;
From Château Richer's swamps the Snipe upsprings;
Ontario's fields know well the scurrying Quail,
And o'er the glassy lake the Loon's weird laughter rings.
Afar 'midst forest glades, where Red Men lie;
On mossy log the Ruffled Grouse strut and drum;
The plump Tetrao courts the spruce tree's shade;