Oh! beautiful, beautiful things!

How they range at will through the sky!

Dear Mary, if I could have wings,

Oh! wouldn’t I, wouldn’t I fly?

I would float far away on the cloud,

All vailed in the silver mist;

And perhaps I should feel so proud,

I shouldn’t come back to be kissed.

But see, sis, the sweet little creatures

Have each a straw in his beak;

A lesson of duty to teach us,

As plainly as birds can speak.

We think they are only playing,

As they roam to and fro in the sky;

But these busy fellows are saying,

"’Tis not all for pleasure we fly.

"We’re building a snug little nest

In the crotch of the old elm-tree

We mean it for one of the best,

And busy enough are we.

"We would not live only for play;

And when for a song we take leisure,

We would show, in our caroling way,

How duty is wedded to pleasure."