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Christopher Pearce Cranch
One day in the bluest of summer weather, Sketching under a whispering oak, I heard five bobolinks laughing together, Over some ornithological joke.
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Christopher Pearce Cranch
When Nature had made all her birds, With no more cares to think on, She gave a rippling laugh and out There flew a Bobolinkon.
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William Cullen Bryant
Modest and shy as a nun is she; One weak chirp is her only note; Braggarts and prince of braggarts is he, Pouring boasts from his little throat.
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William Cullen Bryant
Robert of Lincoln is gayly drest, Wearing a bright black wedding-coat; White are his shoulders and white his crest.
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William Dean Howells
Out of the fragrant heart of bloom, The bobolinks are singing; Out of the fragrant heart of bloom The apple-tree whispers to the room, Why art thou but a nest of gloom While the bobolinks are singing?
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