 | Songs and poems (1909) |  |
197
THE YELLOWHAMMER'S SONG
Out on the waste, a little lonely bird, I flit and I sing;
My breast is yellow as sunshine, and light as the wind my wing.
My breast is yellow as sunshine, and light as the wind my wing.
The golden gorse me shelters, in the tufted grass is my nest,
And Sweet, sweet, sweet the world, though the wind blow east or west.
And Sweet, sweet, sweet the world, though the wind blow east or west.
The harebells chime their music, the canna floats white in the breeze:
But as for me, I flit to and fro and I sing at my ease.
But as for me, I flit to and fro and I sing at my ease.
When the thyme is dripping with dew, and the hill-wind beareth along
The pungent scent of the gale, loudly I sing my morning song.
The pungent scent of the gale, loudly I sing my morning song.
When the sun beats on the gorse, the broom, and the budding heather,
I flit from spray to spray, and my song is of the golden weather.
I flit from spray to spray, and my song is of the golden weather.
198
When the moor-fowl sink to their rest, and the sky is soft rose-red,
I sing of the crescent moon and the single star overhead.
I sing of the crescent moon and the single star overhead.
Out on the waste, out on the waste, I flit all day as I sing,
Sweet, sweet, sweet is the world—dear world—how beautiful everything!
Sweet, sweet, sweet is the world—dear world—how beautiful everything!
Only a little lonely bird that loveth the moorland waste,
And little perhaps of the joy of the world is that which I taste;
And little perhaps of the joy of the world is that which I taste;
But out on the wild, free moorlands or the gold gorse-bows I swing,
And Sweet, sweet, sweet the world; oh, sweet! ah, sweet! the song that I sing.
And Sweet, sweet, sweet the world; oh, sweet! ah, sweet! the song that I sing.
| Songs and poems (1909) | |