December, 1905.




THE RUBY-CROWNED KINGLET


I

Where's your kingdom, little king?
Where the land you call your own,
Where your palace and your throne?
Fluttering lightly on the wing
Through the blossom-world of May,
Whither lies your royal way,
Little king?

_Far to northward lies a land
Where the trees together stand
Closely as the blades of wheat
When the summer is complete.
Rolling like an ocean wide
Over vale and mountainside,
Balsam, hemlock, spruce and pine,--
All those mighty trees are mine.
There's a river flowing free,--
All its waves belong to me.
There's a lake so clear and bright
Stars shine out of it all night;