Oriole, Baltimore. Golden Robin. 

 English Robin. Hang-Nest 



Yonder is his hammock 

 In an elm-top high: 



One more ballad, messmate! 

 Sing it as you fly! 



The oriole with experienced quest 

 Twitches the fibrous bark away, 

 The cordage of his hammock-nest, 

 Cheering his labor with a note 

 Rich as the orange of his throat. 



My Oriole, my glance of summer fire, 

 Is come at last, and ever on the watch, 

 Twitches the pack-thread I had lightly wound 

 About the bough to help his housekeeping, 

 Twitches and scouts by turns, blessing his luck, 

 Yet fearing me who laid it in his way, 

 Nor, more than wiser we in our affairs, 

 Divines the providence that hides and helps. 

 Heave, ho! heave, ho! he whistles as the twine 

 Slackens its hold; once more, now! and a flash 

 Lightens across the sunlight to the elm 

 Where his mate dangles at her cup of felt. 



Firebird. 



LUCY LARCOM. 



LOWELL. 



LOWELL. 



"Come here! come here! Summer is on the way!" 

 The oriole is calling in the blossom-time of May. 



SELECTED. 



101 



