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.