Pebbles and Shells (Hawkes collection)/The Bluebird
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 wingI long to hear thee carolling Upon the tree-top, sweet and low; For when I hear thy song, I knowThat 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 longAnd lift their fragrant offering—Didst know what joy thy song would bring,Dear little harbinger of spring?