The fairest bloom the mountain know Is not an iris or a wild rose But the little flower of which i'll tell
Known as the brave acony bell Just a simple flower so small and plain
With a pearly hue and a little known name For they know that spring is coming soon
But the yellow birds sing when they see it bloom Well it makes its home mid the rocks and the rills Where the snow lies deep on the windy hills And it tells the world "why should i wait This ice and snow is gonna melt away" And so i'll sing that yellow bird's song For the troubled times will soon be gone.
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