03 February 2014

Bobolink - Poem of 1864

Where the pheasant late was drumming
With her brown and spotted wings;
Where the velvet bees are humming,
Where the ox-eyed daisy swings --
The gay bobolink is coming.
With his song the welkin rings.
His coat is black as night,
His opaulettes are white;
A meadow bard is he,
Minstrel of liberty.
Hear the chorus of the rover
As he sings upon a reed,
On the thistle, in the clover,
On the tip-top of the weed.
On the elm-twig bending over,
Singing where he husks the seed
Where the soft cotton grows,
As white as winter snows,
He never sand the lay
That charms, the ear to-day.
How soft and tender is the twitter
Of this meadow minstrel gay!
How jubilant the wings that flitter
While he sings his roundelay
Above the still and faithful sitter
Upon her nest of wool and hay!
When the glad husband sings,
His wife, with folded wings,
Hid in the grass and flowers
Forgets the fleeting hours.
George W. Bung~?
June 25, 1864. The bobolink Miners' Journal and Pottsville General Advertiser 40(26): 4.