A flash of gold and black against the sky,

A perch upon the orchard’s topmost bough,

A strain of such unmingled ecstasy,

The lingering echoes thrill the silence now.

A hanging nest so beautifully shaped,

So softly lined, close woven, firm and strong,

A bright-eyed mate to brood above the eggs,

And listen to that rhapsody of song.

A deep serenity of blue above,

A bubbling joy within beyond control.

Of hopes fulfilled, of Summertime and love—

Once more the golden story, Oriole!

—Lulu Whedon Mitchell.