AFTER THE SNOW STORM.
Chick-a-dee-dee, chick-a-dee-dee,
Tell me where were you
When last night the white snow drifted
And the north wind blew?
Chick-a-dee-dee, chick-a-dee-dee,
Bonny little bird!
Come anear my window, let me
Whisper you a word:
If you’ll stay with me all winter,
Chick-a-dee-dee-dee,
Apple-cores and crumbs I’ll give you;
Best of friends we’ll be;
You shall sit among the branches
Of the lilac tree,
Sit and sing anear my window,
Chick-a-dee-dee-dee.
Glad indeed I’ll be to see you;
Promise me you’ll stay,
Food and shelter I shall find you
For the winter day;
And in spring I’ll give you, dearest
Chick-a-dee-dee-dee,
For your nesting-place and bower,
All my lilac tree!
—Mary Grant O’Sheridan, in the Chicago Tribune.