The Bird of Paradise.

The most beautiful birds live where the climate is warm, Where breezes blow that can do them no harm; The bird of paradise, most beautiful of all, In the month of May entertains with a ball, To show off their plumage, they dance high up in the trees. Early in the mornings, when all is at peace. It’s the male bird that’s bedecked with plumage fine, How they love to display and sit in the sunshine; They are the size of a hawk, with head and neck Like golden velvet all bedecked; And the sprays of orange colored feathers long Sometimes two feet, but not very strong; On each side of the body, under their wings, These masses of golden plumage springs. The female is not as fortunate as he, A throat of green and wings of brown has she, So glossy and soft, full of pride and dignity, How gracefully they dance, it’s wonderful to see; And never suspect that the enemy might be near, To rob them of life—which they, too, hold dear. Now would you have naughty hunters to kill These beautiful birds, your vanity to fill, To wear on your hat, or to wear in your hair; Would you be guilty of these happy lives to dispair? I’m sure you would not, if you really knew, Yet this little story, believe me, is true.