II
Memories. Redbirds
 

Redbirds, redbirds,
  Long and long ago,
What a honey-call you had
  In hills I used to know;

Redbud, buckberry,
  Wild plum-tree
And proud river sweeping
  Southward to the sea,

Brown and gold in the sun
  Sparkling far below,
Trailing stately round her bluffs
  Where the poplars grow --

Redbirds, redbirds,
  Are you singing still
As you sang one May day
  On Saxton's Hill?