Flutters along by a roadside hedge
And alights on a zigzag rail,
And breathes forth a song entrancing,
Of a beauty surpassed by few—
A wistful, plaintive, minor strain—
“O Sweetheart, I love you!”
When a mist of green o’erspreads the trees,
And corals and rubies gay
Are hung on the maple and red-bud boughs,
And the brooks are babbling away,—