Identifier: cu31924022541563 (find matches)
Title: A year with the birds
Year: 1917 (1910s)
Authors: Ball, Alice Eliza, 1867- Horsfall, R. Bruce (Robert Bruce), 1869-1948
Subjects: Birds Birds
Publisher: New York : Gibbs & Van Vleck
Contributing Library: Cornell University Library
Digitizing Sponsor: MSN

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Text Appearing Before Image:
The Sandpiper 159 The Sandpiper By a tiny pool or a silvery stream; Beside the reed-rimmed shoreOf a crystal lake, or on a beach Where crested billows roar,We may watch a flock of gray-brown birds. With breasts like snowy foam,That alight and bow and bob and tip. While over the sands we roam.The fragrant, dank, salt-laden air With their plaintive tones rings sweet;As the surf rolls in, we hear them cry, Peet-weet! Wet-feet! Wet-feet! A. E. B. 160
Text Appearing After Image:
SANDPIPER The Sandpiper Across the narrow beach we flit, One little sandpiper and I,And fast I gather, bit by bit. The scattered driftwood bleached and dry.The wild waves reach their hands for it, The wild wind raves, the tide runs high.As up and down the beach we flit,— One little sandpiper and I. Above our heads the sullen clouds Scud black and swift across the sky;Like silent ghosts in misty shrouds Stand out the white lighthouses high.Almost as far as eye can reach I see the close-reefed vessels fly,As fast we flit along the beach,— One little sandpiper and I. I watch him as he skims along, Uttering his sweet and mournful cry;He starts not at my fitful song. Or flash of fluttering drapery.He has no thought of any wrong; He scans me with a fearless eye:Staunch friends are we, well tried and strong, The little sandpiper and I. 161 Comrade, where wilt thou be to-night When the loosed storm breaks furiously?My driftwood-fire will burn so bright! To what warm shelter canst thou fly

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