BOBOLINK

Bright little bird with a downward wing,

How many birds within you sing?

Two or three at the least it seems,

Overflowing golden streams.

If I could warble on a wing so strong,

Filling five acres full of song,

I'd never sit on the grey rail fence,

I'd never utter a word of sense,

I'd float forever in a light blue sky,

Uttering joy to the passers-by!