“The Song of the Snow-Bird,” words by Francis C. Woodworth; music by Susanna Newbould (from Robert Merry’s Museum, January 1858; pp. 22-24)
The ground was all covered with snow one day,
And two little sisters were busy at play,
When a snow-bird was sitting close by on a tree,
And merrily singing his chick-a-de-de,
Chick-a-de-de, chick-a-de-de.
And merrily singing his chick-a-de-de.
He had not been singing that tone very long,
Ere Emily heard him, so loud was his song;
“O sister! look out of the window!” said she;
“Here’s a dear little bird, singing chick-a-de-de.
Chick-a-de-de, etc.
“Poor fellow! he walks in the snow and the sleet,
And has neither stockings nor shoes on his feet;
I pity him so! how cold he must be!
And yet he keeps singing his chicka-de-de.
Chick-a-de-de, etc.
If I were a barefooted snow-bird, I know
I would not stay out in the cold and the snow.
I wonder what makes him so full of his glee;
He’s all the time singing that chick-a-de-de.
Chick-a-de-de, etc.
“O mother! do get him some stockings and shoes,
A nice little frock, and a hat, if he choose;
I wish he’d come into the parlor, and see
How warm we would make him, poor chick-a-de-de.”
Chick-a-de-de, etc.
The bird had flown down for some pieces of bread,
And heard every word little Emily said;
“How queer I would look in that dress!” thought he;
And he laughed, as he warbled his chick-a-de-de.
Chick-a-de-de, etc.
“I thank you,” he said, “for the wish you express;
But I’ve no occasion for such a fine dress;
I would rather remain with my limbs all free,
Than to hobble about, singing chick-a-de-de.
Chick-a-de-de, etc.
“There is ONE, my dear child, though I can not tell who,
Has clothed me already, and warm enough, too.
Good-morning! O who are so happy as we?”
And away he went, singing his chick-a-de-de.
Chick-a-de-de, etc.