He calls her Phe-be B, so dear, I’d listen on forever.
Now if there is a Bright Eyes small who’d like to go with me,
And on his cautious tiptoes ten, creep softly to a tree,
I’ll coax this little minister to quit his leafy perch,
And show this little boy or girl the way to go to church;
And where his cosy parsonage is hidden in the trees,
And how in summer it is full of little D.D.D.’s.
And if Bright Eyes will prick his ears, he’ll hear the titmice say,
“Good morning,” which, in Chickadese is always “Day, day, day.”
—Ella Gilbert Ives.