This is the pigeon with soft gray breast
Who patiently sat on the loose straw nest,
The nest where the pretty white eggs were found,
Her own little eggs so smooth and round
That held the wonderful secret.
This is the pigeon-house safe and high
(Where never a prowling cat could pry)
Where lived the pigeon with soft gray breast
Who patiently sat on the loose straw nest,
The nest where the pretty white eggs were found,
Her own little eggs so smooth and round
That held the wonderful secret.
This is the barn which the farmer had filled
With hay and grain from the fields he had tilled:
The barn near which stood the pigeon-house high
(Where never a prowling cat could pry)
Where lived the pigeon with soft gray breast
Who patiently sat on the loose straw nest,
The nest where the pretty white eggs were found,
Her own little eggs so smooth and round
That held the wonderful secret.
This is the bin full of corn so good
(The little gray pigeon's favorite food).
That was in the barn which the farmer had filled
With hay and grain from the fields he had tilled;
The barn near which stood the pigeon-house high
(Where never a prowling cat could pry)
Where lived the pigeon with soft gray breast
Who patiently sat on the loose straw nest,
The nest where the pretty white eggs were found,
Her own little eggs so smooth and round
That held the wonderful secret.
