There’s magic in that small bird’s note—
See, there he flits—the Yellow-Throat;
A [living sunbeam], tipped with wings,
A spark of light that shines and sings
“Witchery—witchery—witchery!”
[You prophet] with a pleasant name,
If out of Mary-land you came,
You know the way that thither goes
Where Mary’s lovely garden grows;
Fly swiftly back to her, I pray,