And eyes, seems listening to far welcomings, Two golden stars, like tokens from the Blest, He smiles as though he said "Thy will be done": His eyes, they see not those illuminings; His ears, they hear not what the Blackbird sings. Frederick Tennyson [1807-1898] THE BLACKBIRD WHEN smoke stood up from Ludlow And mist blew off from Teme, The blackbird in the coppice "Lie down, lie down, young yeoman; I heard the tune he sang me, Then my soul within me Took up the blackbird's strain, And still beside the horses Along the dewy lane The Blackbird "Lie down, lie down, young yeoman; The sun moves always west; The road one treads to labor Will lead one home to rest, And that will be the best." Alfred Edward Housman [1859 1479 THE BLACKBIRD THE nightingale has a lyre of gold; The lark's is a clarion call, And the blackbird plays but a box-wood flute, But I love him best of all. For his song is all of the joy of life, We too have listened till he sang Our hearts and lips together. William Ernest Henley [1849-1903] THE BLACKBIRD Ov al the birds upon the wing 'Tis sweet, wi' yerly-wakèn eyes Vrom new-pleshed hedges ar vrom copse, Var when my work is al a-done How in my buoyhood I did rove An' we da hear the blackbirds zing William Barnes [1801-1886] ROBERT OF LINCOLN MERRILY Swinging on brier and weed, Over the mountain-side or mead, Robert of Lincoln is telling his name: Spink, spank, spink; Snug and safe is that nest of ours, Hidden among the summer flowers. Chee, chee, chee. Robert of Lincoln 1481 Robert of Lincoln is gayly dressed, Wearing a bright black wedding-coat; Spink, spank, spink; Look, what a nice new coat is mine, Sure there was never a bird so fine. Chee, chee, chee. Robert of Lincoln's Quaker wife, Pretty and quiet, with plain brown wings, Broods in the grass while her husband sings: Spink, spank, spink; Brood, kind creature; you need not fear Thieves and robbers while I am here. Chee, chee, chee. Modest and shy as a nun is she; One weak chirp is her only note. Braggart and prince of braggarts is he, Pouring boasts from his little throat: Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link, Spink, spank, spink; Never was I afraid of man; Catch me, cowardly knaves, if you can! Chee, chee, chee. Six white eggs on a bed of hay, Flecked with purple, a pretty sight! There as the mother sits all day, Robert is singing with all his might: Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link, Spink, spank, spink; Nice good wife, that never goes out, Keeping house while I frolic about. Chee, chee, chee. Soon as the little ones chip the shell, Spink, spank, spink; This new life is likely to be Hard for a gay young fellow like me. Chee, chee, chee. Robert of Lincoln at length is made Sober with work, and silent with care; Off is his holiday garment laid, Half forgotten that merry air: Spink, spank, spink; Nobody knows but my mate and I Where our nest and our nestlings lie. Chee, chee, chee. Summer wanes; the children are grown; Spink, spank, spink; When you can pipe that merry old strain, Robert of Lincoln, come back again. Chee, chee, chee. William Cullen Bryant [1794-1878] THE O'LINCON FAMILY A FLOCK of merry singing-birds were sporting in the grove; Some were warbling cheerily, and some were making love: There were Bobolincon, Wadolincon, Winterseeble, Conquedle, A livelier set was never led by tabor, pipe, or fiddle,— Crying, "Phew, shew, Wadolincon, see, see, Bobolincon, Down among the tickletops, hiding in the buttercups! |