The Partridge

Under the alders, along the brooks,
Under the hemlocks, along the hill,
Spreading their plumage with furtive looks,
Daintily pecking the leaves at will;
Whir! and they flit from the startled sight, —
And the forest is silent, the air is still.

Alonzo Teall Worden

for PBasers waxing Lyrical please see HERE