Where the white lilies quiver
By the sedge in the river,
I fly in and out,
I hunt all about;
For I am the daring kingfisher,
kingfisher!
Rod and line have not I,
But, a fish when I spy,
From the tree-top I start,
And down, down, I dart;
For I am the daring kingfisher, kingfisher!
My dinner I make,
My pleasure I take,
And the fish must be quick
That would parry my trick;
For I am the daring kingfisher, kingfisher!
Now summer is near,
And the boys will be here;
But I fly or I run,
When I look on a gun,
Tho' I am the daring kingfisher, kingfisher!