Last night the clashing thunders woke,
A jagged lightning rent the sky,
But now the sun is in the trees
The clouds go laughing by,
The song-bird I have loved so long
To my window comes with his mate,
What is amiss with fate,
That you come so late, that you come so late?
The air is sweet with the breath of spring
And the song-bird comes with his mate.
Wild bird, greet him with a song
Though he come so late, though he come so late,
Tarry, he will not be long,
O stay and greet him with a song,
Wild bird, wild bird, wait!
The song-bird goes ere he dew,
But I wait for you, I wait,
Till the stars are high in the blue,
And the moon is low at the western gate;
But what is amiss with fate?
And why do you come so late ?
The willows burst their scented buds,
And the wild bird comes with his mate.
