THE Thrush has been silent for many a long day,
But now he sings loudly, and what does he say?
He says that he thinks there will soon be a shower,
And he shall have earth-worms and slugs to devour.
The Swan has been brushing the stream with her wing,
And soon we shall hear the glad Nightingale sing;
The Woodpecker drums, though she lately was drooping,
The Deer in the park to yon hillock are trooping.
The Swallows are darting and wheeling about,
A change in the weather they none of them doubt;
The Rooks are discussing the very same matter--
While homeward returning how loudly they chatter!