THE BIRTH OF THE HUMMINGBIRD.

It was born in a valley of violets Where bird and flower for its favor vied, Its father a poppy gone stark mad, Its mother a reckless honey bee, (True child of such startling pedigree) Its cradle a sunbeam glorified.

It was bathed in a dewdrop morn by morn And when the time for the christening came, The font was filled with a jeweled flame; Glitter of gems dissolved in mist, White of diamond, its changing light, Ruby, emerald, amethyst, And its christening robe was encrusted quite. Nelly Hart Woodworth.