Page:This Canada of ours and other poems.djvu/23

Rh Where the farmer ploughs his furrow, Sowing seed with hope of harvest, In the orchards, white with blossom, In the early fields of clover, Comes the little brown-clad singer, Flitting in and out of bushes, Hiding well behind the fences, Piping forth his song of sadness, "Poor—hu—manity—manity—manity."