File:A year with the birds (1917) (14563331128).jpg

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 Nighthawk 107 The Nighthawk In the far-off land of China, One beholds a curious sight.On the shoes of little children, Eyes are fashioned, wondrous bright,So the small feet shall not stumble. But shall see the way to go;And on boats prows eyes are painted That shall guide them, safe and slow. There are birds that fly at twilight.With a call incessant, loud, Throats white-banded, mouths wide open-Busy, dusky, night-hawk crowd. As they circle in the darkness.Sharpest eyesight theirs must be; Bright eyes on their wings seem paintedThat shall guide them carefully. Gracefully they fly oer housetops; Then with wings half-closed, dive down,Till you fear theyll dash to pieces Gainst the chimneys of the town.They are slumbering at midnight. But at dawn may fly about;Often resting till the sun sets. When their insect prey comes out. A. E. B. 108 *5™™B?lHs
Text Appearing After Image:
NIGHTHAWK The Whip-poor-will 109 The Whip-poor- When winged creatures for the night Are safely hid away,And even swifts and nighthawks bold Have ceased to search for prey;When owls, with round, wide-open eyes Begin to prowl about—Mysteriously, with noiseless wings, A gentle bird comes outOf densest thickets, where he hides— And rarely is he found;He seems a lichen on a log, A dead leaf on the ground. He opens wide his monstrous mouth. All fringed with bristling hair.Entangling gnats and soft-winged moths In the net-like meshes there.While sleeps the world, these shadow birds For long hours sweep the sky,And rid the land of countless pests Their large bright eyes espy.At times they pause, and weirdly call When all around is still—And best when moonlight floods the earth— Whip-poor-will! Whip-poor-will! Whip-poor-will! A. E. B. 110

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