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ROBERT OF LINCOLN

          Merrily swinging on brier and weed,
           Near to the nest of his little dame,
          Over the mountain-side or mead,
           Robert of Lincoln is telling his name:
               Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link,
               Spink, spank, spink;
          Snug and safe is that nest of ours,
          Hidden among the summer flowers,
               Chee, chee, chee.

          Robert of Lincoln is gayly drest,
           Wearing a bright black wedding-coat;
          White are his shoulders and white his crest
           Hear him call in his merry note:
               Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link,
               Spink, spank, spink;
          Look, what a nice coat is mine.
          Sure there was never a bird so fine.
               Chee, chee, chee.

          Robert of Lincoln's Quaker wife,
           Pretty and quiet, with plain brown wings,
          Passing at home a patient life,
           Broods in the grass while her husband sings
               Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link,
               Spink, spank, spink;
          Brood, kind creature; you need not fear
          Thieves and robbers while I am here.
               Chee, chee, chee.

          Modest and shy is she;
           One weak chirp is her only note.
          Braggart and prince of braggarts is he,
           Pouring boasts from his little throat:
               Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link,
               Spink, spank, spink;
          Never was I afraid of man;
          Catch me, cowardly knaves, if you can!
               Chee, chee, chee.

          Six white eggs on a bed of hay,
           Flecked with purple, a pretty sight!
          There as the mother sits all day,
           Robert is singing with all his might:
               Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link,
               Spink, spank, spink;
          Nice good wife, that never goes out,
          Keeping house while I frolic about.
               Chee, chee, chee.

          Soon as the little ones chip the shell,
           Six wide mouths are open for food;
          Robert of Lincoln bestirs him well,
           Gathering seeds for the hungry brood.
               Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link,
               Spink, spank, spink;
          This new life is likely to be
          Hard for a gay young fellow like me.
               Chee, chee, chee.

          Robert of Lincoln at length is made
           Sober with work, and silent with care;
          Off is his holiday garment laid,
           Half forgotten that merry air:
               Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link,
          Nobody knows but my mate and I
          Where our nest and out nestlings lie.
               Chee, chee, chee.

          Summer wanes; the children are grown;
           Fun and frolic no more he knows;
          Robert of Lincoln's a humdrum crone;
           Off he flies, and we sing as he goes:
               Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link,
               Spink, spank, spink;
          When you can pipe that merry old strain,
          Robert of Lincoln, come back again.
               Chee, chee, chee.