The World’s Wit and Humor: An Encyclopedia in 15 Volumes. 1906.
Frank Dempster Sherman (18601916)Loves Seasons
’T
’Twas autumn when I told it;
The gloomy winter made me doubt,
And summer scarce could hold it.
“She loves,” the mating robins sang
In sweet, delicious trebles,
And through the brooks the echo rang
In music o’er the pebbles.
Of blossoms, softly hinted
The selfsame song; where’er I went
I found the message printed
On bud and leaf, on earth and sky,
Through sun and rain it glistened,
And though I never reasoned why,
I always read or listened.
Sang in their tree-top glory,
And something seemed to make their words
A sequel to my story:
“You love,” they twittered in the trees,
Whene’er the light wind stirred them.
Distracting words! on every breeze
They fluttered, and I heard them.
And all the leaves were turning,
The fields and forests were aflame
In golden sunlight burning;
The parting birds sang out again
A sentimental message:
“Go tell her,” whispered they, and then
I thought ’twas love’s first presage.
To faint and lose your courage,
Or half-reluctantly implore
A pretty girl at her age!
For when I stammered what they’d sung,
And all their secrets told her,
She said the birds were right, and hung
Her head upon my shoulder.