A SINGING BIRD IN THE CITY.
Golden-throated, hath God sent thee for our comfort in the city?
Sweet, sweet! singing, singing all the day.
I said: Ah, the young Spring she will lure him from his pity,
And he’ll seek the sunny distance in the May.
For all the other birds have left us lonely
That sought us when the hungry winter came;
Quick they forgot, and he remembered only,
But with the breath of Spring he’ll fly the same.
For the daffodil is nodding, just awaking,
With a sunny ray imprisoned in its breast;
Over purple violets the hawthorn buds are breaking —
There a perfect Eden for a nest.
