The Brown Bear by Mary Austin

Now the wild bees that hive in the rocks
Are winding their horns, elfin shrill,
And hark, at the pine tree the woodpecker knocks,
And the speckled grouse pipes on the hill.
Now the adder's dull brood wakes to run,
Now the sap mounts abundant and good,
And the brown bear has turned his side to the sun
In his lair in the depth of the wood—
Old Honey-Paw wakes in the wood.

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