Classic Poem

The starlings they have come to town,
With polka dots on their robes of brown;
They sit a crowd on the old plane tree,
And sing this quaint old melody:
Creak, creak, pipe, pipe, squeak, squeak, sweet!
They come with winter snow and sleet —
Creak, creak, pipe, pipe, squeak, squeak, sweet!

Oh, starling, starling, tell me true
Of pleasant lands that have sheltered you
Of running brook and woodland tree!
This is the tale he told to me:
Creak, creak, pipe, pipe, squeak, squeak, sweet
Above the hum of busy street —
Creak, creak, pipe, pipe, squeak, squeak, sweet

The starlings all will fly away,
With ice and snow on a sunshine day,
Starling, starling, do not go!
I miss your pretty singing so:
Chirp, chirp, cheep, cheep, tweet, tweet, sweet!
'Tis but the sparrows in the street —
Chirp, chirp, cheep, cheep, tweet, tweet, sweet!

In summer, in a woodland glade,
When I shall walk all unafraid,
Lured by the blossom and the bee,
I'll hear this quaint old melody;
Creak, creak, pipe, pipe, squeak, squeak, sweet!
And echo call from her retreat —
Creak, creak, pipe, pipe, squeak, squeak, sweet!

The starlings they have come from town,
With polka dots on their robes of brown:
Oh, starling, starling, tell me true,
Of city far, now what think you?
Creak, creak, pipe, pipe, squeak, squeak, sweet!
This fine tale he did repeat —
Creak, creak, pipe, pipe, squeak, squeak, sweet!