Page:Dora Sigerson Shorter - New Poems.djvu/28



starlings they have come to town, With polka dots on their robes of brown; They sit a crowd on the old plane tree, And sing this quaint old melody: Creak, creak, pipe, pipe, squeak, squeak, sweet! They come with winter snow and sleet— Creak, creak, pipe, pipe, squeak, squeak, sweet!

Oh, starling, starling, tell me true Of pleasant lands that have sheltered you Of running brook and woodland tree! This is the tale he told to me: Creak, creak, pipe, pipe, squeak, squeak, sweet! Above the hum of busy street— Creak, creak, pipe, pipe, squeak, squeak, sweet!

The starlings all will fly away, With ice and snow on a sunshine day, Starling, starling, do not go! I miss your pretty singing so: