BOB WHITE
Whose voice is that that wakes me from sleep,As soon as the day begins to peep—Now under the wall, and now in the hay,Now in the meadow, piping away?Why, that’s Bob White.He seems as fond of his common nameAs humans who’ve attained to fame;But he isn’t conceited, not a mite.Though he wakes us up before it is lightTo call “Bob White.”Our Robert has just two notes, that’s all;But many a bird might envy his call,So rich and full, so joyous and free;For a matin singer, there’s none to meLike dear Bob White.“Wake up!” we hear from among the sheaves;“There is work to do, and old Time leavesThe laggard and lazy on the way;The best time for work is this very day,And I’m Bob White.”—Eleanor Kirk.
Whose voice is that that wakes me from sleep,As soon as the day begins to peep—Now under the wall, and now in the hay,Now in the meadow, piping away?Why, that’s Bob White.He seems as fond of his common nameAs humans who’ve attained to fame;But he isn’t conceited, not a mite.Though he wakes us up before it is lightTo call “Bob White.”Our Robert has just two notes, that’s all;But many a bird might envy his call,So rich and full, so joyous and free;For a matin singer, there’s none to meLike dear Bob White.“Wake up!” we hear from among the sheaves;“There is work to do, and old Time leavesThe laggard and lazy on the way;The best time for work is this very day,And I’m Bob White.”—Eleanor Kirk.
Whose voice is that that wakes me from sleep,As soon as the day begins to peep—Now under the wall, and now in the hay,Now in the meadow, piping away?Why, that’s Bob White.
Whose voice is that that wakes me from sleep,
As soon as the day begins to peep—
Now under the wall, and now in the hay,
Now in the meadow, piping away?
Why, that’s Bob White.
He seems as fond of his common nameAs humans who’ve attained to fame;But he isn’t conceited, not a mite.Though he wakes us up before it is lightTo call “Bob White.”
He seems as fond of his common name
As humans who’ve attained to fame;
But he isn’t conceited, not a mite.
Though he wakes us up before it is light
To call “Bob White.”
Our Robert has just two notes, that’s all;But many a bird might envy his call,So rich and full, so joyous and free;For a matin singer, there’s none to meLike dear Bob White.
Our Robert has just two notes, that’s all;
But many a bird might envy his call,
So rich and full, so joyous and free;
For a matin singer, there’s none to me
Like dear Bob White.
“Wake up!” we hear from among the sheaves;“There is work to do, and old Time leavesThe laggard and lazy on the way;The best time for work is this very day,And I’m Bob White.”—Eleanor Kirk.
“Wake up!” we hear from among the sheaves;
“There is work to do, and old Time leaves
The laggard and lazy on the way;
The best time for work is this very day,
And I’m Bob White.”
—Eleanor Kirk.