The Spoonbill Generator

First with the frost       [Surlaw ]

Comes the song of the lost       [Apsley ]

Its echoes disperse in the snow       [Surlaw ]

Emptily, without hope or word       [Apsley ]

And largely unheard       [Surlaw ]

Then, with the thaw,       [Apsley ]

The long arm of the law       [Surlaw ]

Makes visible where we should go       [Apsley ]

Emptily, without word or hope       [Surlaw ]

Or a singing bird       [Apsley ]