The Bluebird
O bird of blue, with your robe from the sky,
And a flame in your red-brown breast,
When the home-love burns, from the South you fly,
To the chill of your northern nest.
"Tru-ly--tru-ly--tru-ly-"
O wonderful bird with the loyal heart,
To your home and mate you are true;
Our own hearts leap, when the cold March days
Bring the first glad sight of you.
"Tru-ly--tru-ly--tru-ly."
O beautiful bird with the tender note
You sing of the days to be;
You promise bright skies and an earth renewed,
And we wait expectantly.
"Tru-ly--tru-ly---tru-ly."
Sujet: The Bluebird 