Fly, singing bird, fly,
From the wood where lies shelter'd thy nest,
From the tree whence thou pourest thy song,
Fly away, far away to the west,
Tell my love that I wait,
Ah! too long and lonely, I wait.

Fly, singing bird, fly,
O'er the blossoming meadows, where grow
Yellow cowslips and daffodils pale.
Say I wait where anemones blow,
Weary wait, till with waiting I
Fail, and failing, I sigh.

Fly, singing bird, fly,
Leave thy nest 'midst the wood, lone, unsought,
Leave the cradling boughs, spread thy wing,
And swift as my following thought,
Onward speed, and swift flying, still sing,
Come, or I die!