Chickadee Poem of 1872

James Robinson.

Twenty little chickadees,

      Sitting in a row;

Twenty pairs of naked feet,

      Buried in the snow;

I should think you'd fly away,

      Where the weather's warm,

Then you wouldn't have to be

      Out there in the storm.

 

Pretty little chickadees!

      All the trees are bare;

Wouldn't you prefer to be

      Where the weather's fair?

All the other birds have flown

      South among the flowers;

There the snow-storms never come—

      Only summer showers.

 

Sorry little chickadees!

      Don't you know the way?

Can't you find the road to go

      Where it's always May?

Robins all have found it out,

      Wrens and blue-birds too;

Don't you wish you'd thought to ask,

      Ere away they flew?

 

Chilly little chickadees?

      I should freeze, I know,

If I had to live out-doors

      In the wind and snow

Don't you find it very cold

      For your little feet?

Don't you find it hard to get

      Anything to eat?

 

Hungry little chickadees!

      Would you like some bread?

I will give you all you want,

      Or some seeds instead,

Anything you like to eat,

      You shall have it free,

Every morning, every night,

      If you'll come to me.

 

Jolly little chickadees!

      Have you had enough?

Don't forget to come again

      While the weather's rough.

By-by, happy little birds!

      Off the wee things swarm,

Dancing through the driving snow,

      Singing in the storm!

February 23, 1872. Chick-a-dee-dee! Fort Dodge Times 4(20): 3.