What is it? What is it?
Only a feather
Blown by the wind
In this cold stormy weather,
Hunted and hurried so
Hither and thither?
Leaf or a feather,
I know not if either.
There, hark now, and see!
'Tis alight on a tree,
And sings, "Chick-a-dee-dee,
Chick-a-dee-dee!"
I know it! you know it!
'Tis little Tom-tit.
Look at it! Look at it
Flutter and hover!
Only a tuft of down
On it for cover!
Only a bare bough
To shelter it over!
Poor little rover,
Snow-fields for clover
Are all that you see!
Yet listen the glee
Of its "chick-a-dee-dee,
Chick a-dee-dee!"
Hark to it! look at it!
Little Tom-tit!
How is it? Why is it?
Like a snow-flurry,
With swish of wings,
And a swoop and a scurry,
Comes a whole flock of them
Now in a hurry!
Busy and merry
The little things, very;
Watch them, and see
How blithe they can be
With their "Chick-a-dee-dee,
Chick-a-dee-dee!"
Each one such a bit
Of a little Tom-tit!