Cinderella; Or, The Little Glass Slipper, and Other Stories

THE ANGRY BOBOLINK.

     Pretty little bobolink
     In your satin coat,
     Trimmed with white across the neck
     Black about the throat,
     Why so angry do you seem?
     Why so fierce your mien?
     That you’re scolding somebody
     Plainly can be seen.

     “Don’t you know,” says bobolink,
     As he shakes his head,
     That my nest is hidden in
     This soft grassy bed?
     Somebody has come too near,
     And I wish to say
     There is no admittance here
     Pass the other way.

     “If my gentle little wife
     Sits so calm above,
     It’s because she knows I’ll guard
     This dear nest we love.”
      Fear not, pretty bobolink,
     Sing your joyous song,
     Never will I trouble you,
     Sing, the whole day long.