Birds and All Nature: Bob-o-link

BOB-O-LINK.
GRANVILLE OSBORNE.

Soaring high up in the bright blue sky,
Can't keep track of him if you try;
Flitting around in the pasture lot,
Likes to be friendly, rather than not;
Dancing along on the old rail fence,
Sunshine and flowers where the woods commence;
Got so he almost talks to me;
Head a-nodding, he says, says he —
"Bob-o-link, o-link, o-link."

Clover and buttercups just seem to try
Coaxing him up in the meadow to fly;
Bees hunting honey keep buzzing around,
Seem to know best where the sweetest is found,
Almost forget when a-hearing him sing

What kind of honey they all came to bring;
Pert and saucy as he can be,
Tail a-flitting, he says, says he —
"Bob-o-link, o-link, o-link."

Wings jet black and glossy as silk,
Waistcoat a-gleaming as white as milk;
Dainty and slender, quicker than light,.
First in the morning, last one at night,
Perched on the post of the barnyard gate,
Singing his sweetest to waken his mate;
Dressing his feathers and winking at me,
Mincing around, he says, says he —
"Bob-o-link, o-link, o-link."