The Blackbird Poem by Nora Jane Hopper Chesson

The blackbird has a mouth of gold, though sombre be his feathers;
The lark is for the summer noon, the blackbird for all weathers.
The lark he sets his heart above all things that are on earth,
But the blackbird in the cherry-tree finds rest and food and mirth.


The blackbird is a bonny bird despite his mourning colour;
He sings but all the merrier when earth and skies grow duller.
He whistles and he sings the while he swings from tree to tree,
For a rare mate and a fair mate in the cherry-boughs has he.


Of all the trees in the orchard the cherry tree's the best,
For deep amid its branches, like a blithe heart in its breast,
There lilts a hidden blackbird and he's singing to his dear,
And who would grudge their cherries so sweet a song to hear?


Oh, who would grudge their whitehearts to pay for such a song?
God love the merry blackbird who lifts the year along:
God shield the blackbird's nestlings and the blackbird's brooding wife,
And fill with sweets full measure the days of the blackbird's life.