They built their nest of moss and hay
Within a maple-tree,--
And thither every pleasant day,
I went to hear and see.
At first whene'er I came they flew,
Or eyed me in alarm;
But soon my step familiar grew,
I never did them harm.
One day a louder song I heard,
With eager cries for food;
And then I helped the mother-bird
To still her hungry brood.
I always seemed a welcome guest;
Both old and young I fed,
Then settling down beneath the nest,
Some pleasant book I read.
I watched them fondly day by day,
Until their wings were grown;
When suddenly they flew away,
And left me all alone.
The bitter tears began to start,
And full of sad regret
I wondered in my simple heart,
If birds could thus forget!
Ah! many summers have returned,
And many changes wrought,
Since I the mournful lesson learned,
In early childhood taught.
And many hopes have taken wings
On which my heart was set,--
And I have found that _many things
As well as birds forget!_
GATHER VIOLETS.
Gather violets white and blue,
Where the southern zephyrs play;
Bring them sparkling with the dew,--
With the blessed dew of May.
Let me fold them to my breast,
Emblems sweet of earthly bliss;
Ha! they love to be caressed,
For they give me kiss for kiss.
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