Vainly the fowler's eye Might mark thy distant flight to do thee wrong, As, darkly limned upon the crimson sky, Thy figure floats along. Seek'st thou the plashy brink Of weedy lake, or marge of river wide, Or where the rocking billows rise and sink On the chafed ocean side? There is a Power whose care Teaches thy way along that pathless coast,-- The desert and illimitable air,-- Lone wandering, but not lost. All day thy wings have fanned, At that far height, the cold, thin atmosphere; Yet stoop not, weary, to the welcome land, Though the dark night is near. And soon that toil shall end; Soon shalt thou find a summer home, and rest, And scream among thy fellows; reeds shall bend, Soon, o'er thy sheltered nest. Thou'rt gone, the abyss of heaven Hath swallowed up thy form; yet on my heart Deeply hath sunk the lesson thou hast given, And shall not soon depart. He who, from zone to zone, Guides through the boundless sky thy certain flight, In the long way that I must tread alone, Will lead my steps aright.'" "I should like to learn that by heart," said Frank; "I like it very much." "Come, Mother," said Harry, "what more have you to tell us about these travellers?" "Not much, Harry. The martin is such a universal favorite that Wilson says he never knew but one man that did not like them and treat them kindly. Wherever they, go, they find some hospitable retreat prepared for their reception. Some people have large habitations formed for the martins, fitted up with a variety of apartments and conveniences; these houses are regularly occupied every spring, and the same individual birds have been known to return to the same box for many successive years. "The North American Indians, who have a great regard for martins, cut off all the top branches of a young tree, and leave the prongs a foot or two in length, and hang hollow gourds or calabashes on the ends for nests." "What are gourds and calabashes, Mother?" said Harry. "A gourd, my dear, is a vegetable, something like a squash, only much thicker and harder; when hollowed out, it is as hard as if it were made of wood, and not so easy to break. It is shaped something like a short, straight-necked winter squash; a calabash is a large kind of gourd. On the banks of the Mississippi, the negroes stick up long poles, with calabashes on the ends, to accommodate the martins.