The Bobolink - An 1885 Poem

By Bessie O. Cushing; written for the Western Rural.

From leafy spray and sedgy brink,

We hear his merry song;

The sky so bright, his heart so light,

He sings the whole day long;

No care he knows, his joy o'erflows;

The merry bobolink.

 

When tender flowers the dewdrops drink,

He sits, and swaying, sings

From a quivering throat, his silvery note

On the early stillness flings.

Those mornings in woodland bowers,

Oh, happy bobolink!

 

In clouds of gold the sunbeams sink,

And twilight shadows fall;

In the dewy balm of the evening calm,

We hear his cheery call;

Whether dawning day of sunset ray,

He's a merry bobolink.

September 26, 1885. Western Rural and American Stockman 23(39): 618. Literary feature.