by Paul Laurence Dunbar (1872 - 1906)

Bird of my lady's bower
Language: English 
Bird of my lady's bower,
  Sing her a song;
Tell her that every hour,
  All the day long,
Thoughts of her come to me,
  Filling my brain
With the warm ecstasy
  Of love's refrain.

Little bird! happy bird!
  Being so near,
Where e'en her slightest word
  Thou mayest hear,
Seeing her glancing eyes,
  Sheen of her hair,
Thou art in paradise, -- 
  Would I were there.

I am so far away,
  Thou art so near;
Plead with her, birdling gay,
Plead with my dear.
Rich be thy recompense,
  Fine be thy fee,
If through thine eloquence
  She hearken me.

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Authorship

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: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

Text added to the website: 2008-07-27 00:00:00
Last modified: 2014-06-16 10:02:49
Line count: 24
Word count: 98