Of the katydid and the cricket.

Day and night the cheerful songs

Of these tiny insects were our company.

[Pg 29]

An early blizzard

Buried every green blade and bent to earth

Great trees and slender saplings

Under a thick weight of snow.

To our door came the thrushes

That we thought were gone,—

Shy thrushes, that had turned their backs

Upon us in summer and slipped

Into the depth of the woods,—

And whitethroats and tree sparrows,

Unafraid, waiting for food.

Even now the stillness is alive

With the memory of these friendly folk.

[Pg 30]

[Pg 30]

 Storm

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