Fay-fi-fo-fee,
See the graceful White-Birch tree,
With bark so light, so tough and tight
That Indians wrought
Canoes we're taught,
And paddled out of sight.

[{96}]

Fee-fi-fo-fap,
Hark and hear the Hemlock snap;--
Little spine so full of wind,
Heated, hops,
And jumping, pops,
And makes the bright eyes shine.

Fee-fi-fo-fur,
See the curious chestnut-burr;
Green and round, then turning brown.
Frost opens wide
Each prickly side,
And out the chestnuts bound.

[{97}]

Fee-fi-fo-fay,
Now the farmer makes his hay;
Grasses grow, which workmen mow,--
Toss every-wise,
Till sunshine dries,
Then into stacks, they stow.

Fay-fee-fi-fo,
See the farmer wield his hoe,
Lettuce, greens, then corn and beans,
With pumpkin-vines
Along the lines,
Where many a weed o'er-leans.