THE BLUEBIRD
Fair herald of the coming spring
That fearest not the winter's snow,
The friendly fields begin to show,
O haste thy gaily-painted wing
I long to hear thee carolling
Upon the tree-top, sweet and low;
For when I hear thy song, I know
That soon the robin too will sing,
And all the merry woods will ring
With Springtime's well remembered song;
That flowers will wake from slumber long
And lift their fragrant offering—
Didst know what joy thy song would bring,
Dear little harbinger of spring?
That fearest not the winter's snow,
The friendly fields begin to show,
O haste thy gaily-painted wing
I long to hear thee carolling
Upon the tree-top, sweet and low;
For when I hear thy song, I know
That soon the robin too will sing,
And all the merry woods will ring
With Springtime's well remembered song;
That flowers will wake from slumber long
And lift their fragrant offering—
Didst know what joy thy song would bring,
Dear little harbinger of spring?
THE MAYFLOWER
A beautiful floweret was sleeping
Down deep 'neath the grasses and snow;
The chains of the winter were keeping
Its color and fragrance below.
Down deep 'neath the grasses and snow;
The chains of the winter were keeping
Its color and fragrance below.
But springtime, with softest of breezes,
With laughing and smiling all day,
Soon shamed the dark season that freezes,
And melted the snowdrops away.
With laughing and smiling all day,
Soon shamed the dark season that freezes,
And melted the snowdrops away.
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