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.