Of Fang and Feather slides thy day Through Quandre'd halls, delight at play.... That thee should glide thus so, my friend, Would have, in me, acknowledged end.... That, that which gilds enticement's rung Indeed, is for which, Song is Sung.
M@Foxglove.Taranaki.NZ
Enjoining the joy of Stephen Yocum's delightful story "Winter Chills and Winged Visitors"