The Blue-Bird - An 1859 Poem

I am so blithe and glad to-day!

At morn I heard a blue-bird sing,

The blue-bird, warbling soul of Spring,

The prophet of the leafy May —

And I knew the violets under the tree

Would listen and look the bird to see,

Peeping timidly here and thee

In purple and odor to charm the air;

And the wind-flower lift is rose-veined cup

In the leaves of the old year, hurried up;

And all the delicate buds that bloom

On the moss-beds, deep in the forest gloom,

Would stir in their slumber, and catch the strain,

And dream of the sun and the April rain —

For Spring has come when the blue-bird sings,

And folds in the maple his glossy wings,

And the wind may blow, and the storm may fall,

But the voice of Summer is heard in all.

 

I am so blithe and glad to-day!

My heart, besides the blue-birds, sings,

And folds, serene, its weary wings,

And knows the hours lead on to May!

April 23, 1859. Dayton Daily Empire 10(81): 1. From the New York Independent. Also: April 28, 1859 in Highland Weekly News 22(52): 1.