The First Blue-Bird

James Whitcomb Riley (1849–1916)

JEST rain and snow! and rain again!

And dribble! drip! and blow!

Then snow! and thaw! and slush! and then—

Some more rain and snow!

This morning I was ’most afeard

To wake up—when, I jing!

I seen the sun shine out and heerd

The first blue-bird of Spring!—

Mother she ’d raised the winder some;—

And in acrost the orchard come,

Soft as an angel’s wing,

A breezy, treesy, beesy hum,

Too sweet for any thing!

The winter’s shroud was rent apart—

The sun bust forth in glee,—

And when that blue-bird sung, my hart

Hopped out o’ bed with me!