Half so gay a song from any bird,—
Full of quips and wiles,
Now so round and rich, now soft and slow,
All for love of that sweet face below,
Dimpled o’er with smiles.
And the while the bonny bird did pour
His full heart out freely, o’er and o’er,
’Neath the morning skies,
In the little childish heart below
All the sweetness seemed to grow and grow,