You will journey many a weary day and long,
  Ere you will see so restful and sweet a place,
As this, my home, my nest so downy and warm,
  The labor of many happy and hopeful days;
But its low brown walls are laid and softly lined,
  And oh, full happily now my rest I take,
And care not I when it lightly rocks in the wind,
  For the branch above though it bends will never break;
And close by my side rings out the voice of my mate—­my lover;
Oh, the days are long, and the days are bright—­and
      Summer will last forever.

Now the stream that divides us from perfect bliss
  Seems floating past so narrow—­so narrow,
You could span its wave such a morn as this,
  With a moment winged like a golden arrow,
And the sweet wind waves all the tasselled broom,
  And over the hill does it loitering come,
Oh, the perfect light—­oh, the perfect bloom,
  And the silence is thrilled with the murmurous hum
Of the bees a-kissing the red-lipped clover;
Oh, the days are long, and the days are bright—­and
      Summer will last forever.

When the West is a golden glow, and lower
  The sun is sinking large and round,
Like a golden goblet spilling o’er,
  Glittering drops that drip to the ground—­
Then I spread my lustrous wings and cleave the air
  Sailing high with a motion calm and slow,
Far down the green earth lies like a picture fair,
  Then with rapid wing I sink in the shining glow;
A-chasing the glinting, gleaming drops; oh, a diver
Am I in a clear and golden sea, and Summer will last forever.

The leaves with a pleasant rustling sound are stirred
  Of a night, and the stars are calm and bright;
And I know, although I am only a little bird,
  One large serious star is watching me all the night,
For when the dewy leaves are waved by the breeze,
  I see it forever smiling down on me. 
So I cover my head with my wing, and sleep in peace,
  As blessed as ever a little bird can be;
And the silver moonlight falls over land and sea and river,
And the nights are cool, and the nights are still, and
      Summer will last forever.

I think you would journey many and many a day,
  Ere you so contented and blest a bird would see;
Not all the wealth of the world could lure my love away,
  For my brown little nest is all the world to me;
And care not I if brighter bowers there are
  Lying close to the sun—­where tall palms pierce the sky;
Oh, you would journey a weary way and a far,
  Ere you would behold a bird so blest as I;
And singing close to my side is my mate—­my kin—­my lover;
Oh, the days are long, and the days are bright—­and
      Summer will last forever.

* * * * *

Autumn.

Yes! yes!  I dare say it is so,
And you should be pitied, but how could I know,
Watching alone by the moon-lit bay;
But that is past for many a day,
For the woman that loved, died years ago,
                   Years ago.