The Flight of the Birds

O WISE little birds, how do ye know
The way to go,
Southward and northward, to and fro?

Far up in the ether piped they:
" We but obey
One who calleth us far away.

" He calleth and calleth year by year,
Now there, now here;
Ever He maketh the way appear. "

Dear little birds! He calleth me
Who calleth ye:
Would that I might as trusting be!
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