"But when the little ones are grown—" said Phyllis.
"Oh, yes, then I will sing again for you. But listen, Phyllis!"
Phyllis heard a sweet little "Chink! Chink! Chink!"
"My little mate is calling," gurgled the bobolink, flying away and leaving the grass-top swaying wildly.
ROBERT OF LINCOLN
Merrily swinging on brier and weed,
Near to the nest of his little dame,
Over the mountainside or mead,
Robert of Lincoln is telling his name.
"Bobolink, bob-o'-link,
Spink, spank, spink;
Snug and safe is that nest of ours,
Hidden among the summer flowers,
Chee, chee, chee!"
Robert of Lincoln is gaily drest,
Wearing a bright black wedding-coat,
White are his shoulders and white his crest.
Hear him call in his merry note:
"Bobolink, bob-o'-link,
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 in plain brown wings,
Passing at home a patient life,
Broods in the grass while her husband sings:
"Bobolink, bob-o-link,
Spink, spank, spink;
Brood, kind creature, you need not fear
Thieves and robbers while I am here!
Chee, chee, chee!"
—Bryant.