THE CHICKADEE.

SIDNEY DAYRE.

"Were it not for me,"Said a chickadee,"Not a single flower on earth would be;For under the ground they soundly sleepAnd never venture an upward peep,Till they hear from me,Chickadee-dee!"I tell Jack Frost when 'tis time to goAnd carry away the ice and snow;And then I hint to the jolly old sun,'A little spring work, sir, should be done.'And he smiles aroundOn the frozen ground,And I keep up my cheery, cheery sound,Till echo declares in glee, in glee,'Tis he! 'tis he!The chickadee-dee!""And then I waken the birds of spring—'Ho, ho! 'tis time to be on the wing.'They trill and twitter and soar aloft,And I send the winds to whisper soft,Down by the little flower-beds,Saying, 'Come show your pretty heads!The spring is coming, you see, you see!'For so sings he,The chickadee-dee!"The sun he smiled; and the early flowersBloomed to brighten the blithesome hours,And song-birds gathered in bush and tree;But the wind he laughed right merrily,As the saucy mite of a snowbird heChirped away, "Do you see, see, see?I did it all!Chickadee-dee!"

"Were it not for me,"Said a chickadee,"Not a single flower on earth would be;For under the ground they soundly sleepAnd never venture an upward peep,Till they hear from me,Chickadee-dee!"I tell Jack Frost when 'tis time to goAnd carry away the ice and snow;And then I hint to the jolly old sun,'A little spring work, sir, should be done.'And he smiles aroundOn the frozen ground,And I keep up my cheery, cheery sound,Till echo declares in glee, in glee,'Tis he! 'tis he!The chickadee-dee!""And then I waken the birds of spring—'Ho, ho! 'tis time to be on the wing.'They trill and twitter and soar aloft,And I send the winds to whisper soft,Down by the little flower-beds,Saying, 'Come show your pretty heads!The spring is coming, you see, you see!'For so sings he,The chickadee-dee!"The sun he smiled; and the early flowersBloomed to brighten the blithesome hours,And song-birds gathered in bush and tree;But the wind he laughed right merrily,As the saucy mite of a snowbird heChirped away, "Do you see, see, see?I did it all!Chickadee-dee!"

"Were it not for me,"Said a chickadee,"Not a single flower on earth would be;For under the ground they soundly sleepAnd never venture an upward peep,Till they hear from me,Chickadee-dee!

"Were it not for me,"

Said a chickadee,

"Not a single flower on earth would be;

For under the ground they soundly sleep

And never venture an upward peep,

Till they hear from me,

Chickadee-dee!

"I tell Jack Frost when 'tis time to goAnd carry away the ice and snow;And then I hint to the jolly old sun,'A little spring work, sir, should be done.'And he smiles aroundOn the frozen ground,And I keep up my cheery, cheery sound,Till echo declares in glee, in glee,'Tis he! 'tis he!The chickadee-dee!"

"I tell Jack Frost when 'tis time to go

And carry away the ice and snow;

And then I hint to the jolly old sun,

'A little spring work, sir, should be done.'

And he smiles around

On the frozen ground,

And I keep up my cheery, cheery sound,

Till echo declares in glee, in glee,

'Tis he! 'tis he!

The chickadee-dee!"

"And then I waken the birds of spring—'Ho, ho! 'tis time to be on the wing.'They trill and twitter and soar aloft,And I send the winds to whisper soft,Down by the little flower-beds,Saying, 'Come show your pretty heads!The spring is coming, you see, you see!'For so sings he,The chickadee-dee!"

"And then I waken the birds of spring—

'Ho, ho! 'tis time to be on the wing.'

They trill and twitter and soar aloft,

And I send the winds to whisper soft,

Down by the little flower-beds,

Saying, 'Come show your pretty heads!

The spring is coming, you see, you see!'

For so sings he,

The chickadee-dee!"

The sun he smiled; and the early flowersBloomed to brighten the blithesome hours,And song-birds gathered in bush and tree;But the wind he laughed right merrily,As the saucy mite of a snowbird heChirped away, "Do you see, see, see?I did it all!Chickadee-dee!"

The sun he smiled; and the early flowers

Bloomed to brighten the blithesome hours,

And song-birds gathered in bush and tree;

But the wind he laughed right merrily,

As the saucy mite of a snowbird he

Chirped away, "Do you see, see, see?

I did it all!

Chickadee-dee!"


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