BIRD WITH BOSOM RED.

BIRD WITH BOSOM RED.
531.1

When the winds of winter blow,
And the air is thick with snow,
Drifting over hill and hollow,
Whitening all the naked trees
Then the bluebird and the jay
And the oriole fly away
Where the bobolink and swallow
Flew before them, at their ease.

But we are not left alone,
Though the summer birds have flown;
Though the honey-bees have vanished,
And the katydids are dead;
Still a cheery, ringing note,
From a dear, melodious throat.
Tells that winter has not banished
Little bird with bosom red.

Pipe away, you happy bird,
Sweeter song I never heard;
For it seems to say: “Remember,
God, our Father, sits above-
Though the world is full of wrong,
Though the winter days are long-
He can fill the bleak December
With the sunshine of his love.”