Redbirds

Redbirds, redbirds,

Long and long ago,

What a honey-call you had

In hills I used to know;

Redbud, buckberry,

Wild plum-tree

And proud river sweeping

Southward to the sea,

Brown and gold in the sun

Sparkling far below,

Trailing stately round her bluffs

Where the poplars grow —

Redbirds, redbirds,

Are you singing still

As you sang one May day

On Saxton's Hill?