Impromptu To a Bluebird

Impromptu. — To a Blue Bird,
Singing on a cold frosty morning, — after several warm days.

Come hither, sweet bird, the cold wind hath harmed thee,

Come warm they chill'd limbs, and partake my repast;

A few sunny days from the covert have charmed thee,

As hope told thee, falsely, the winter was past.

 

Thy song of the spring a sweet foretaste has given,

Of delights ever new, ever smiling and gay,

Of young buds, and fresh flowers, and the soft blue of Heaven,

The rich verdure of earth, and the warm airs of May.

 

In thy fate, hapless bird, O! 'tis plain to discover

An emblem of life in its early spring morn,

When the young heart comes forth with hope glowing all over,

And shrinks at the touch of the cold world's chill scorn.

Myra. February 19, 1824.

March 12, 1825. Cincinnati Literary Gazette 3(11): 88.