Paul Laurence Dunbar, 1872-1906

A robin sits pluming his ruddy breast,
And a madrigal sings to his love in her nest:
"Oh, the skies they are blue, the fields are green,
And the birds in your nest will soon be seen!"
She hangs on his words with a thrill of love,
And chirps to him as he sits above
     For the song is sweet, so sweet.

A maiden was out on a summer's day
With the winds and the waves and the flowers at play;
And she met with a youth of gentle air,
With the light of the sunshine on his hair.
Together they wandered the flowers among;
They loved, and loving they lingered long,
     For to love is sweet, so sweet.

Bird of my lady's bower,
     Sing her a song;
Tell her that every hour,
     All the day long,
Thoughts of her come to me,
     Filling my brain
With the warm ecstasy
    Of love's refrain.

Little bird! happy bird!
     Being so near,
Where e'en her slightest word
    Thou mayest hear,
Seeing her glancing eyes,
     Sheen of her hair,
Thou art in paradise,—
     Would I were there.

I am so far away,
    Thou art so near;
Plead with her, birdling gay,
    Plead with my dear.
Rich be thy recompense,
     Fine be thy fee,
If through thine eloquence
    She hearken me.