THE ENCHANTED WOOD.
the sunshine, or fly in swarms with joyous, bounding flight.
VOICES OF THE ENCHANTED WOOD.
i rom dawn, when the red-trousered Bulbulas soft cries Are warning the Sellers of Betel to rise;
When Sparrows are up in a chattering throng,
The voices of birds call you all the day long:
Moaning and whistling and song.
The Rollersa soft plumage gleams blue as they go And brilliant the Minivetsa scarlet wings show.
The Weaver-birds to-and-fro hurry their flight Busily weaving the homes which at night Gleam with the fire-fliesa glow.
The Crow Pheasants mournfully moan a whoop, whoop. whoop/
And sharp are the cries of the Swifts as they s^ood.
The Wood-peckers ceaselessly tap at the treea
The Cuckoos say a Yauk-hpa Kwe-Kaw a in Burmese,
(a Brother ! oh, call the dog please a).
Now these are a few of the voices you hear Incessantly calling. But others are near;
Others, of birds which have lit and have flown,
Evading your search: for they live all alone, y little lives of their own.Evading your search: for they live all alone, y little lives of their own.