THE MOCKING-BIRD.

Hear! hear! hear! Listen! the word Of the mocking-bird! Hear! hear! hear! I will make all clear; I will let you know Where the footfalls go That through the thicket and over the hill Allure, allure. How the bird-voice cleaves Through the weft of leaves With a leap and a thrill Like the flash of a weaver's shuttle, swift and sudden and sure!

And la, he is gone—even while I turn The wisdom of his runes to learn. He knows the mystery of the wood, The secret of the solitude; But he will not tell, he will not tell, For all he promises so well.