But still that bird was silent
In summer time an' fall;
He jest set still and listened,
An' he wouldn't sing at all!
But one night when them songsters
Was tired out an' still,
An' the wind sighed down the valley
An' went creepin' up the hill;
When the stars was all a-tremble
In the dreamin' fields o' blue,
An' the daisy in the darkness—
Felt the fallin' o' the dew,—
There come a sound o' melody
No mortal ever heard,
An' all the birds seemed singin'
From the throat o' one sweet bird!
Then the other birds went Mayin'
In a land too fur to call;
For there warn't no use in stayin'
When one bird could sing for all!
Frank L. Stanton
THE MESSENGER
Bee! tell me whence do you come?
Ten fields away, twenty perhaps,
Have heard your hum.
If you are from the north, you may
Have passed my mother's roof of straw
Upon your way.