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Back By Mushera Mountain

From the overnight frost the high fields looking gray
Back by Mushera Mountain it is cold today
The cold breath of January in the winter breeze
That sough in the wood in the spruce and pine trees

The wood birds spend their days in the farm-yards nearby
Some of them weakened from cold and hunger barely able to fly
By sheds they eat spilled grains and seeds and by back doors crumbs of bread
Of them there are many more tough weeks ahead

Till the warmer weather of the early Spring
When the urge to breed will come to them with the urge to sing
When the swallows in mid April will return from lands far away
To build their mud nests on shed rafters in May

The face of old Mushera is whitened with snow
At a cold and wet time of year when grass refuse to grow
With a chill in it's breath icy January blow
And hungry redwings are chirping on the bare hedgerow.

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