As the song of a bird in May shall my song be 
That close in a brake all day sits bowered and sings 
For there in his chosen home to his mate pipes he 
Nor cares for a while to roam on travelling wings.

Only to sing unseen is now his thought 
Beneath and around him green and the blue above 
Winter is overpast and he cares nought 
But rested in peace at last has found his love.

Far have I roamed, how far and might not rest
Long have I sought my star -- in vain how long 
Now having found my way my love my nest 
As the song of a bird in May shall be my song.