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ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 
THE BOBOLINK. 
O NCE, on a golden afternoon, 
With radiant faces and hearts in tune, 
Two fond lovers in dreaming mood, 
Threaded a rural solitude. 
Wholly happy, they only knew 
That the earth was bright and the sky was blue, 
That light and beauty and joy and song 
Charmed the way as they passed along ; 
The air was fragrant with woodland scents ; 
The squirrel frisked on the roadside, fence; 
And hovering near them, “chee, chee, chink?” 
Queried the curious bobolink, 
Pausing and peering with sidelong head, 
As saucily questioning all they said ; 
While the ox-eye danced on its slender stem, 
And all glad nature rejoiced with them. 
Over the odorous fields were strewn 
Wilting winrows of grass new mown, 
And rosy billows of clover bloom 
Surged in the sunshine and breathed perfume. 
Swinging low on a slender limb, 
The sparrow warbled his wedding hymn, 
And balancing on a blackberry briar, 
The bobolink sang with his heart on fire 
“Chink ! If you wish to kiss her, do ! 
Do it ! do it ! You coward, you ! 
Kiss her! kiss her ! Who will see ? 
Only we three ! we three ! we three ! ” 
Tender garlands of drooping vines, 
Through dim vistas of sweet-breathed pines, 
Past wid.e meadow fields, lately mowed, 
Wandering the indolent country road, 
The lovers followed it, listening still, 
And loitering slowly, as lovers will. 
Entered a gray-roofed bridge that lay 
Dusk and cool in their pleasant way. 
Under its arch a smooth, brown stream, 
Silently glided with glint and gleam, 
Shaded by graceful elms, which spread 
Their verdurous canopy overhead,— 
The stream so narrow, the bough so wide, 
They met and mingled across the tide. 
