ghizela rowe - charlotte smith - the first swallow lyrics
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the gorse is yellow on the heath
the banks with speedwell flowers are gay
the oaks are budding, and, beneath
the hawth+rn soon will bear the wreath
the silver wreath, of may
the welcome guest of settled spring
the swallow, too, has come at last;
just at sunset, when thrushes sing
i saw her dash with rapid wing
and hailed her as she passed
come, summer visitant, attach
to my reed roof your nest of clay
and let my ear your music catch
low twittering underneath the thatch
at the gray dawn of day
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