The Singing Garden
Dolefully and drearily
   Come I with the spring;
Wearily and cerily
   My threnody I sing.
Hear my drear, discordant note
   Sobbing, sobbing in my throat,
   Weaving, wailing thro' the wattles
   Where the builders are a-wing.

Outcast and ostracized, Miserable me! By the feathered world despised, Chased from tree to tree. Nought to do the summer thro', My woeful weird a dree; Singing, "Pity, ah, pity, Miserable me!"
I'm the menace and the warning, Loafing, labour-shy. In the harmony of morning Out of tune am I -- Out of tune and out of work, Meanly 'mid the leaves I lurk, Fretfully to sing my sorrow, Furtively to spy.
Outcast and desolate, Miserable me! Earning ever scorn and hate For my treachery. Shiftless drone, I grieve alone, To a mournful key Singing, "Sorrow, ah, sorrow! Miserable me!"

The Herald 26 August 1932 - Number 6 in the Bush Birds series.

Copyright © Perry Middlemiss 2002-05