Helen M. Merrill - Bluebirds lyrics

O MAGIC music of the Spring,– Across the morning's breezy meads I hear the south wind in the reeds, I hear the golden bluebirds sing. O mellow music of the morn,– Across the fading fields of Time How many joyous songs are borne From memory's enchanting clime. I see the gra**es shine with dew, The cornflowers gleaming in the grain, And, oh! the bluebirds sing–and you? We fare together once again. O haunting music of the dusk, When silent birds are on the wing And sweet is scent of pine and musk– Oh, as we wander hand in hand Across the shadow-painted land, I hear the golden bluebirds sing!