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There come the little gentle birds,
Without a fear of ill;
And freely drink their fill;
And dash about, and splash about
The merry little things! And look askance with bright black eyes,
And flirt their dripping wings.
I've seen the freakish squirrels drop
Down from their leafy tree, The little squirrels with the old,
Great joy it was to me!
And down unto the running brook
I've seen them nimbly go;
A welcome kind and low.
The nodding plants they bow'd their heads,
As if, in heartsome cheer,
“ 'Tis merry living here!"
Oh, how my heart ran o'er with joy!
I saw that all was good,
All round us, if we would !
And many a wood-mouse dwelleth there,
Beneath the old wood-shade, And all day long has work to do,
Nor is of aught afraid.