THE FLIGHT OF THE BIRDS.

O WISE little birds! how do you know The way to go Southward and northward, to and fro? Far up in the ether piped they: “We but obey One who calleth us far away. “He calleth and calleth year by year Now there, now here; Ever He maketh the way appear.” Dear little birds, He calleth me Who calleth ye: Would that I might as trusting be!