Whose voice is that that wakes me from sleep,
As soon as the day begins to peep—
Now under the wall, and now in the hay,
Now in the meadow, piping away?
Why, that’s Bob White.
He seems as fond of his common name
As humans who’ve attained to fame;
But he isn’t conceited, not a mite.
Though he wakes us up before it is light
To call “Bob White.”