BIRD OF THE SUMMERING NORTH.

By Alexander Hamilton Laidlaw

Bird of the summering North,

Whither away?

Fly you so gaily forth

Simply to stay

Nested in northern bowers

Till the late flushing flowers

Turn in October hours

Ashen and gray?

Bear, then, this message, Dove,

When you depart,

Safe to my northern Love,

Quick! Like a dart!

Bill her and coo her this

Seal of triumphant bliss,

One young, immortal kiss,

Hot from my heart.

Then, in the autumn time,

Tailing the pole,

From my Love's cooling clime

Make me your goal;

Flash to this field of Fame,

Linked with her darling name,

All her concordant flame,

Deep from her soul.