THE FIRST BLUE-BIRD.
Reading edition
Gold-Locks thought just now, Out on the apple-bough Had fallen a bit of the sky. "Blue it is; oh, blue! And large as my hand," she cried. Ah, what a wonder-eyed Dear happy heart are you, With all the world so new, So bright, because untried! Out I hurried to see What the bit of sky might be, When a tender piping note, Soft as a flute, I heard; And there upon a bough, Wintry and bare till now, In a sky-colored coat, Trying his little throat, Was perched the first blue-bird.
CLARA DOTY BATES.
