How, one to the other, they lovingly call:
"Come up, come up!" they seem to say,
"Where the topmost twigs in the breezes play!
"Come up, come up, for the world is fair,
Where the merry leaves dance in the summer air!"
And the birds below give back the cry,
"We come, we come to the branches high!"
How pleasant the life of the birds must be,
Living in love in a leafy tree;
And away through the air what joy to go,