Do not ask me why? or how?—

All in Fairyland it chanced,

As the leaves upon the bough

In the autumn breezes danced!

“Quip-a-quip-a-quip-a-queer!”

Said the Thrush unto his mate.

“We must soon be gone from here;

No one else would stay so late!”

Do not ask me why? or how?—

But his mate did sorely grieve:

“My dear nest upon this bough

It will break my heart to leave!”

Do not ask me how? or why?—

But the thrush’s children, too,

Perched around, began to cry,

“Oh, whatever shall we do?”

“Cheep-a-cheep-a-cheep-a-cheer!

Never such a nest as ours;

We would rather have it, here,

Than Bermuda and the flowers!”

“Cheep-a-cheep-a-cheep-a-cheer,”

Pleaded then the thrush’s mate:

“Let us take the nest, my dear,

It is light and we are eight!”

(Do not ask me why? or how?—)

But the thrushes, with a cheer,

Took that nest from off the bough—

“Quip-a-quip-a-quip-a-queer!

“Quip-a-quip-a-quip-a-queer!

Firmly, now, with beak and claw;

Spread your wings, and never fear,—

You to push, and you to draw!”

So the thrushes took their nest,

Every one his strength applied;

But the youngest ’twas thought best

Should be snugly tucked inside.

All in Fairyland it chanced!

There is nothing more to say;

Ere the morn was far advanced,

They were miles and miles away!