The Poetical Works of Jonathan E. Hoag/Little Golden Oriole
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Little Golden Oriole
Ah, little golden oriole!
How sweet thy song in early spring,
While light May breezes shake the bough,
To which thy feet so firmly cling!
How sweet thy song in early spring,
While light May breezes shake the bough,
To which thy feet so firmly cling!
Thy morning carol ere the sun
Has risen o'er yon wooded hill,
Awakes from rest the drowsy flowers,
Whilst lark and thrush the morning thrill.
Has risen o'er yon wooded hill,
Awakes from rest the drowsy flowers,
Whilst lark and thrush the morning thrill.
Thine is the home of mystery!
Pray tell us, who thine architect?
In beauty thus with strength conjoined,
A mighty artist we detect.
Pray tell us, who thine architect?
In beauty thus with strength conjoined,
A mighty artist we detect.
Now perched on drooping elm so high,
We note thy carols sweet and clear,
Thy pendant home with rhythmic swing,
Thy happy birdlings free from fear.
We note thy carols sweet and clear,
Thy pendant home with rhythmic swing,
Thy happy birdlings free from fear.
From out the perfumed sunny south,
Plumed in thy gorgeous scarlet dress,
With carols soft as ere before,
Again thou com'st our homes to bless.
Plumed in thy gorgeous scarlet dress,
With carols soft as ere before,
Again thou com'st our homes to bless.
O blissful bird! O happy life!
No sorrow overshadows thee.
Thine is a life without alloy,
In merry springtime revelry.
No sorrow overshadows thee.
Thine is a life without alloy,
In merry springtime revelry.
1922