Maxioms by Edmund C. Stedman
Whither away, Bluebird,
Whither away?
The blast is chill, yet in the upper sky
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Whither away, Bluebird,
Whither away?
The blast is chill, yet in the upper sky
Thou still canst find the color of thy wing,
The hue of May.
Warbler, why speed, thy southern flight? ah, why,
Thou, too, whose song first told us of the Spring?
Whither away?
Bird of the amber beak,
Bird of the golden wing!
Thy dower is thy carolling;
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Bird of the amber beak,
Bird of the golden wing!
Thy dower is thy carolling;
Thou hast not far to seek
Thy bread, nor needest wine
To make thy utterance divine;
Thou art canopied and clothed
And unto Song bethrothed.
