for a south wind; only a feeling bearing a voice that reached not ears, but our being, and told of a coming — a coming.
A snow-lump fell from a fir-tree and ruffled the white on the water. “Coming, coming!” it sang.
A drop of water rolled from a sandbank and dimpled the white on the water, with a “Coming, coming!”
Trronk — trronk — trronk, in the sky to the southward.
Trronk — trronk — trronk, the flying buglers come.
trronk — trronk — trronk, and louder. An arrow, a broad-headed arrow, appears.
tronk — tronk — tronk, and a whirring of pinions, and the broad arrow grows to an army — an army of buglers. ..text continues