Bluebird 



The bluebird comes, and with his warble drills the ice, 

 and sets free the rivers and ponds and frozen ground. 



Thoreau. Spring. 



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Song: '^ The violet of sound." 

 The warble of this bird is innocent and celestial like 

 its color. 



Thoreau. 



Their short rich warble curls through the air. 



Thoreau. 



"Dear! dear! think of it, think of it." 

 Purity, purity. 



Burroughs. 



Tru-al-ly, tru-al-ly. 



Blanchan. 



''Far-away, far-away." (in autumn.) 

 "Drearily, drearily." (in autumn.) 



A bit of heaven itself 



Winging, springing, always flinging, 

 Flinging music all about him. 



Harriet Prescott Spofford. 

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