THE FIRST BLUEBIRD

By James Whitcomb Riley

Jest rain and snow! and rain again!

And dribble! drip! and blow!

Then snow! and thaw! and slush! and then —

Some more rain and snow!

This morning I was‘ most afeard

To wake up — when, I jing!

I seen the sun shine out and heerd

The first bluebird of Spring!—

Mother she'd raised the winder some;—

And in acrost the orchurd come,

Soft as a angel's wing,

A breezy, treesy, beesy hum,

Too sweet fer anything!

The winter's shroud was rent a-part —

The sun bust forth in glee,—

And when that that bluebird sung, my hart

Hopped out o’ bed with me!