82 OFF TO AFRICA

Though they treat the hedge-birds badly, we forgive
them for their note,

For their mellow bar of beauty, for their finely feathered
coat ;

They are parents of an order not affectionate, nor
meek,

These cuckoos bound for Africa, because their chests
are weak.

Though they fly away from England over many a weary
mile,

They love our caterpillars and they like our cosy isle.

These gentlemen in feathers, with their ladies fair and
fleet,

When Spring is green, will travel here to call across the
wheat.

So at parting we God-speed them with no reprehend-
ing word,

Dear guests for our civility—there goes the pilot bird !

Farewell till wood-anemones are friendly by the creek—

We spare you all for Africa, because your chests are
weak,