"Chipper, chipper, clear the way;
We must be at work to-day.
See us swiftly fly along,
Hear our bursts of merry song.
Watch me in my busy flight,
Glancing in your window bright;
Save your bits of yarn for me,
Just think what a help 'twould be!"

"Chip, chip, chipper!" How he sings,
As he comes for shreds and strings,
Which he is not slow to see,
From the budding lilac-tree!
Now with cunning, saucy pranks,
See him nod his hearty thanks:
"These are just the thing," sings he;
"Truly you are helping me!"
"Chipper, chipper!" See him go;
Now 'tis fast, and now 'tis slow;
Working ever at the nest,
Never stopping once to rest;
Getting little straws and strings
For his good wife, while he sings,
"Chip, chip, chipper, gay are we;
See us in the lilac-tree!"
"Chipper, chipper," all day long;
Thus I hear his tuneful song,
Meaning, as he flutters past,
Gayly warbling, working fast,
"I can't stop to talk to you;
I have got my work to do:
Chip, chip, chipper, clear the way;
We shall finish up to-day."