The Flight of the Birds

O WISE little birds! how do you 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!