Oriole's Nest Song by Clara Dotty Bates


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HERE comes a rocking breeze
With a low whistle,
He will swing the little house
Where my birds nestle;
Feather of the dandelion,
Silk of the thistle
Make the pretty blankets
For their bed.


Four babie sin a pouch,
A little grass stocking!
Easily could I myself
Do all the rocking,
But I love to hear the breeze
Tip-tap, knocking,
And the apple leaves a-rustle
Overhead.


Hard, hark, the rocking bereze
Through the leaves creeping!
Shut all your yellow bills,
Hush your low cheeping!
Swing, swing a lullaby---
Swing, swing, sleeping
In the silken thistle blankets
Of your bed.

Clara Dotty Bates [1838-1895]



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