. The lay of the land. Natural history. V Once (it was a good while ago, when I was a boy), I tried to write a poem. The first stanza ran: — I heard him when the reeds were young Along a clover sea; Above the purple waves he hung, And o'er the fragrant waters flung His storm of ecstasy; and the last stanza ran : — He 's left the meadows burnt and hot, He's left me lone and drear; But still within the white-birch lot Cheeps Chickadee— whom I forgot While Bobolink was here; 74. Please note that these images are extracted from scanned page images that may have been digitally enhanced for readabil

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. The lay of the land. Natural history. V Once (it was a good while ago, when I was a boy), I tried to write a poem. The first stanza ran: — I heard him when the reeds were young Along a clover sea; Above the purple waves he hung, And o'er the fragrant waters flung His storm of ecstasy; and the last stanza ran : — He 's left the meadows burnt and hot, He's left me lone and drear; But still within the white-birch lot Cheeps Chickadee— whom I forgot While Bobolink was here; 74. Please note that these images are extracted from scanned page images that may have been digitally enhanced for readability - coloration and appearance of these illustrations may not perfectly resemble the original Sharp, Dallas Lore, 1870-1929. Boston and New York, Houghton Mifflin Company

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License: Licensed
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade1920, booksubjectnatural, bookyear1922