To many of the mountain districts of the State, the swallows returned during the recent spring-like weather.
The swallows are back, and I'm tuning my lyre, For today 'tis my duty to sing A melodious lay that is graciously gay To welcome -- officially -- spring -- Ting-a-ling -- So let's have a song with a swing. Bing! High cockalorum and fal-de-rah, whack! Young Spring's in the offing! The swallows are back! To put sense in the song matters little so long As the lift and the lilt of it ring. And a mention be made of the wattle-hung glade Where the blithering birds are a-wing -- Ting-a-ling -- And the clamorous honey-bees cling. Z-z-z-ing! Tho' I'm scarce in the humor, alas and alack! Ho, merry-down-derry! The swallows are back! So -- officially -- Hi! Oh, salubrious sky! What a dear and delectable thing To behold such a blue as old Arcady knew When -- er -- Strephan or someone was king -- Ting-a-ling -- And life held nor arrow nor sling. Ping! Ah, the fervor is forced; but I mustn't get slack, Tho' the rhymes may run low, for the swallows are back! But -- privily -- oh, my vitality's low, And a sneer at the season I fling -- For I gasp and I wheeze in the weary unease Of the plagues that the pollen days bring -- Ting-a-ling -- I'm insipid as second-hand string. Ring. Ah, ring down the curtain! I've gone to the pack! But, a last word in closing: the swallows are back.
|Copyright © Perry Middlemiss 2003|