"Hush, hush!" said a little brown thrush
To his mate on the nest in the elder-bush.
"Keep still! Don't open your bill!
There's a boy coming bird-nesting over the hill!
Let your wings out, so
That not an egg or the nest shall show.
Chee! Chee! It seems to me
I'm as frightened as ever a bird can be!"

Then, still, with a quivering bill,
He watched the boy out of sight o'er the hill.
Ah, then in the branches again,
His glad song ran over vale and glen.
Oh, oh! if that boy could know
How glad they were when they saw him go,
Say, say, do you think next day
He could possibly steal those eggs away?
ANON.