Ballads of the Seasons (Classic Reprint) - Hardcover

Inhaltsangabe

Excerpt from Ballads of the Seasons

Glad is the heart of the hunter, While roving and seeking for rail, Keen is his eye for the plover, The partridge, the woodcock and quail. In highlands, moorlands and woodlands, He seeks ever there for the game That dreads the sound of his footsteps And flees at the sight of his aim.

Soon will the earth seem forsaken, The universe cheerless and drear, If man does not pause and consider, Their ruthless and selfish career. Many a brood has been broken, And parent-birds crippled and slain, As ruthless as bandits of Spain. By cold and feelingless hunters, Fell methods and useless destruction, But make the world barren and mean; And, like the lone desert of Egypt, A gloomy, monotonous scene. What is the need of protection, If scamps are allowed to destroy The beauty God is creating For all to behold and enjoy?

Where rushes and reeds are trampled, Few water fowls mingle to-day, They have been frightened and driven, To other haunts farther away.

How changed is the fair face of Nature! How vain seem the actions of men!

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