by Stephen Collins Foster (1826 - 1864)

Merry little birds are we
Language: English 
The summer's coming on, 
And we warble in the tree, 
The wint'ry blasts have gone, 
Oh! what merry birds are we; 

So now we chirp and sing, 
For the sunlight makes us glad, 
We've waited for the spring 
Till our hearts were sick and sad. 

Merry little birds are we, 
Twit, twit, twee. 
Merry Little birds are we, 

For the summer days are coming. 
The daisy lifts its head 
To the bright and cheering sky, 
The snowy flakes have fled, 

And the chilling winds gone by, 
The roses soon will bloom 
And the wild flowers deck the glen, 
The butterflies will roam, 

Oh! we'll all be happy then. 
We greet the morning beams 
With a welcome to the May, 
We carol to the streams 

When we wake at break of day; 
The birds are on the bough, 
And the verdure on the plain, 
We'll all be happy now, 
For the spring has come again.


Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive)

Researcher for this text: Laura Prichard [Guest Editor]

This text was added to the website: 2015-12-26
Line count: 29
Word count: 155