When they chatter together,—the robins and sparrows,
Bluebirds and bobolinks,—all the day long,
What do they talk of? The sky and the sunshine,
The state of the weather, the last pretty song;

Of love and of friendship, and all the sweet trifles
That go to make bird-life so careless and free;
The number of grubs in the apple-tree yonder,
The promise of fruit in the big cherry-tree;

Of matches in prospect; how Robin and Jenny
Are planning together to build them a nest;
How Bobolink left Mrs. Bobolink moping
At home, and went off on a lark with the rest.

Such mild little slanders! such innocent gossip!
Such gay little coquetries, pretty and bright!
Such happy love-makings! such talks in the orchard!
Such chatterings at daybreak! such whisperings at night!

O birds in the tree-tops! O robins and sparrows!
O bluebirds and bobolinks! What would be May
Without your glad presence,—the songs that you sing us,
And all the sweet nothings we fancy you say?