Red robin has long been singing, amidst a forest green spring,
In the burnt apricot days of sun, of teal skies fresh and clear,
Warbling to a blooming world unseen, hues coming and going.
Then red butterflies appear, like pale moon in plum mists sheer.

In the burnt apricot days of sun, of teal skies fresh and clear,
Satiny voiced red robin sings, while grazing the cream clouds.
Then red butterflies appear, like pale moon in plum mists sheer;
And all of nature's lovely crowds, are wrapt in dusky shrouds.

Satiny voiced red robin sings, while grazing the cream clouds,
Then in flaming, wild rosebush, in the heart of spring so pure;
And all of nature's lovely crowds, are wrapt in dusky shrouds,
While one thing remains sure-its pretty song will ever endure!

Then in flaming, wild rosebush, in the heart of spring, so pure,
Warbling to a blooming world unseen, hues coming and going.
While one thing remains sure-its pretty song will ever endure,
Red robin has long been singing, amidst a forest green spring.