Birds are singing the live-long day,
Trembling, stoopeth an aspen tree.
Eager to hear what the wind will say
At Chateauguay.

Still the sunlight around me falls,
Still in fancy I seem to see
Two who stand on the crumbling walls
At Chateauguay.

Once more wanders a brown-eyed maid
Up the rough, country road with me,
Swinging her hat by its slender braid,
At Chateauguay.

Once for a moment more we stay
Under the tattling aspen tree--
Birds are sweetly lilting to-day
At Chateauguay.

Tree, thou art dear for that sweet tryst,
Dear, for the maiden's sake, to me
Is each spot that her feet have kissed
At Chateauguay.




_A BIRTHDAY_.