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James Stephens - The Fifteen Acres
Work rating: Medium

I
I cling and swing
On a branch, or sing
Through the cool, clear hush of Morning, O!
Or fling my wing
On the air, and bring
To sleepier birds a warning, O!
That the night`s in flight,
And the sun`s in sight,
And the dew is the grass adorning, O!
And the green leaves swing
As I sing, sing, sing,
Up by the river,
Down the dell,
To the little wee nest,
Where the big tree fell,
So early in the morning, O!

II
I flit and twit
In the sun for a bit
When his light so bright is shining, O!
Or sit and fit
My plumes, or knit
Straw plaits for the nest`s nice lining, O!
And she with glee
Shows unto me
Underneath her wings reclining, O!

And I sing that Peg
Has an egg, egg, egg,
Up by the oat-field,
Round by the mill,
Past the meadow,
Down the hill,
So early in the morning, O!

III
I stoop and swoop
On the air, or loop
Through the trees, and then go soaring, O!
To group with a troop
On the gusty poop
While the wind behind is roaring, O!
I skim and swim
By a cloud`s red rim
And up to the azure flooring, O!
And my wide wings drip
As I slip, slip, slip,
Down through the rain-drops,
Back where Peg
Broods in the nest
On the little white egg,
So early in the morning, O!
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