THE MOCKING-BIRD.

Hear! hear! hear!

Listen! the word

Of the mocking-bird!

Hear! hear! hear!

I will make all clear;

I will let you know

Where the footfalls go

That through the thicket and over the hill

Allure, allure.

How the bird-voice cleaves

Through the weft of leaves

With a leap and a thrill

Like the flash of a weaver's shuttle, swift and sudden and sure!

And la, he is gone — even while I turn

The wisdom of his runes to learn.

He knows the mystery of the wood,

The secret of the solitude;

But he will not tell, he will not tell,

For all he promises so well.